Holding On
by XtremeGal87
Summary: Full summary inside. Memories are fragile, treasured things. Ichigo's friends have been forced to forget him, and now he finds himself fighting a new kind of battle. Once a memory is lost, can it ever be restored? Or has he lost them forever? IchiHime.
1. Sweet Halcyon

_**A/N:**_ Hellooooo! Oh, how I've missed you all! (What do you mean it hasn't been _**that**_ long? You lie! LOL) *ahem* Ok, on a serious note, I'm not so much _**back**_ as I am on a break from my other writing (if that makes sense).

Now, as for the details about this fic: this is an idea that's been off and on in my head for a long time, and I finally decided to do something about it. However, since the basic inspiration struck before I had even touched the Fullbring arc, I am once again disregarding that storyline. But I think the summary will tell you all the rest that you need to know right away…so please enjoy!

**Summary:** Few things are more precious in life than a memory. Memories are influential in shaping a person at all stages of their life. Memories help to solidify feelings, opinions, and everything that guides how an individual sees the world around them. But what if those memories could be taken away?

This is the question that Ichigo finds himself facing with his newest opponent. He has no choice but to fight him – to defeat him; but defeating him also means certain loss. Victory over this new enemy could very well cost Ichigo nearly everyone he holds dear. For with his victory, comes their memory loss – their memory loss of _**him**_.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach in any way. I just enjoy playing with the characters from time to time!

**Holding On**

**Chapter One: Sweet Halcyon**

** Orihime Inoue** sighed softly as she stretched her fingers for a moment, her hands hovering over the glowing golden dome of her Souten Kisshun. She felt like she'd been sitting there for hours – and the truth was that she had absolutely no idea of the time. _But it doesn't matter,_ she reminded herself firmly.

She was alone in the room, with the exception of her two unconscious companions, Uryuu Ishida and Yasutora Sado. The pair had been severely wounded in their most recent battle, and then Orihime hadn't been able to get to them right away, so their wounds had only gotten worse. But it had been necessary. Their wounds were bad, yes, but they would live; Ichigo, on the other hand, would not have had she tended to them first.

Unbidden, the image of him falling from the tower above Las Noches flashed through her mind, and Orihime sucked in a sharp breath. _It wasn't like that,_ she told herself. _And it doesn't matter, because he's alright now._

Her jaw locked and her eyes focused on the pair in front of her. _You can't think about that now. Your friends need you._ And she would heal them; she would heal every single scratch and bruise until they were in better condition than they had been when the battle had begun. It was the only way she could apologize to them for making them wait.

She was so intently focused on her task, deliberately shutting away the memories that were trying to spring forth, that she failed to notice as the door to the room slid carefully open. She even failed to register the settling of a familiar spiritual pressure as the figure quietly stepped inside.

But his voice, as it always did, slipped right past her focus and drew her full (if not slightly startled and embarrassed) attention.

"How are they doing?" Ichigo asked, keeping his voice low and gentle so as not to startle her unnecessarily. It was obvious that she hadn't realized he was there yet.

Orihime started, lifting her hands slightly as she swung her head to the side and blinked rapidly in an attempt to re-gather her thoughts. She managed not to cry out, which she was proud of herself for, and instead she offered him a reassuring smile and said, "They'll be fine. It'll probably be another hour or two before they're completely healed, but with any luck they'll be good as new before we have to fight again."

Ichigo inclined his head, his eyes shifting to his fallen comrades reflexively. It was easy to see the truth of her words; already they both looked better than they had the last time he'd seen them. But they did still have some significant healing ahead.

Returning his eyes, and his attention, to Orihime, he asked, "What about you?"

Again Orihime blinked at him for a long second, clearly trying to process his question. After a long moment she began waving her hands in front of her face, though her voice remained quiet as she insisted, "Oh, no, I'm fine! Really! It doesn't take hardly any energy at all for me to use my powers like this, don't worry!"

Ichigo didn't try to stop the scowl on his face from deepening as he looked at her. Her face and arms were still littered with bruises and scrapes, and the sight of the dried blood on her right forearm did nothing to ease his temper. She hadn't even been able to heal herself yet – and of course she'd refused Rukia's offer for help. And now, on top of that, weariness was beginning to set in around her eyes. It was obvious that she was tired.

"Orihime," Ichigo began carefully, trying to keep his frustration from his voice. He knew she would only mistake it as being directed at her, and that was the last thing he wanted. "You've been at this non-stop since the fight ended. We both know they'll keep healing while you rest; you should think about getting some sleep."

Orihime's expression morphed flawlessly into a stubborn pout, and her arms came to rest in her lap. Her eyes found an intriguing spot on the floor about half-way between them and she said, "I can't do that."

She offered nothing else. She wasn't sure how to articulate the rest, and even if she had found a way, she was sure it would only make him feel guiltier.

Ichigo bit back his curse of frustration, but he took a moment to find his next words. _She needs to take care of herself, dammit!_ Releasing a heavy breath, Ichigo forced himself to switch gears and, with a brief glance back at his unconscious friends, he said, "Urahara has something to tell us. Do you want to hear it from him or have one of us repeat it to you later?"

"Oh," Orihime began, caught off-guard by the change in topic. She was honestly surprised he'd dropped his argument so easily. For a moment, she hesitated; she felt obligated to stay with their friends. But they weren't going to wake up any time soon, and she wanted to hear whatever it was that Mr. Urahara had discovered.

_They'll understand,_ she finally decided. "I'll come," Orihime stated aloud, returning her gaze to Ichigo's and offering him another small smile.

Without another word she shifted and pushed to her feet. And even as it occurred to her that it had probably been a while since she'd been standing, she realized that one of her legs was very much asleep from the knee down.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Orihime felt herself wobble as she did her best not to fall on top of her Souten Kisshun. She attempted to hop sideways, but her angle was wrong, and even as she landed on her sleep-numbed foot she realized that she was already falling.

She threw her arms up and out, hands splayed in an effort to keep from smashing her nose against the floor, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. It was going to hurt, and it was going to be incredibly embarrassing. She already wished she'd opted not to go to the impromptu meeting.

And then her hands landed on something hard and sturdy, but this something was warm, and covered by a surprisingly inviting fabric. And, almost simultaneously, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, locking firmly around her and hauling her upright.

Orihime could barely breathe as she realized that she was nearly nose-to-shoulder with Ichigo Kurosaki.

From her current vantage point she could see only a little of his black shihakushou, and quite a lot of his tanned skin, as well as just a peek of his orange hair. She was staring at his collar and throat. Her hands were semi-awkwardly stuck between their bodies, pressed flat against his abdomen and confirming without a shadow of a doubt that his delicious-looking muscles were as solid as she'd always suspected.

And his arms were still wound tightly around her, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades and somewhat tangled in her long, auburn hair, and the other supporting the small of her back. His muscles were locked in place, and all of a sudden Orihime perfectly understood the meaning behind 'iron-clad grip'.

But his grip had nothing to do with her shortness of breath, or the strange feeling in her stomach, or even the bright red undoubtedly staining her cheeks.

Ichigo, for his part, was fighting back a blush of his own. And he was praying fervently that she didn't notice the rapid pounding of his heart, despite that she was pressed up against it. He had to swallow heavily before he could find enough of his voice to ask, "You okay?"

"Y-yes," Orihime stuttered, shifting her weight as his grip slowly loosened. "Sorry," she added softly.

When his grip was loose enough she reluctantly eased back, automatically returning her full weight to her legs. But before she could say another word she realized that her leg was still asleep – though now it was tingling and quickly becoming rather painful – and she instinctively threw herself forward again.

Ichigo's arms tightened around her once more, subsequently pulling her weight almost entirely off of her feet, and he was almost chuckling as he whispered, "Easy, Orihime. You don't want to hurt yourself."

"Eh heh," Orihime laughed self-consciously as she slid her hands up his chest slightly and curled them in the fabric of his shihakushou. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I'd been sitting so long."

"It's okay," Ichigo assured her even as he dragged in a breath and briefly squeezed his eyes shut.

After a moment Orihime dragged in a breath of her own and said, "I-I should probably try walking this off…."

_**"****Not necessarily,"**_ Ichigo's hollow piped up with a snicker.

Grinding his teeth, Ichigo silently growled, _"What woke you up this time?"_ Aloud, he said, "Just be careful. And feel free to lean on me."

_**"****Yes,"**_ the hollow continued, ignoring Ichigo's question. _**"Lean heavily."**_

_"Shut the hell up,"_ Ichigo snapped.

Orihime shifted, dragging Ichigo's attention outward once more, and she said, "Okay."

Slowly, Ichigo once again lowered her back to her feet and loosened his grip. Her hands slid simultaneously down his chest slightly as she released his shihakushou and carefully tested her sleeping leg.

It was still tingling, and it was still sore, but the pain was nearly gone, and Orihime knew that as long as she was careful, she'd be able to walk just fine. Not that she particularly wanted to.

Ichigo tried not to be disappointed when Orihime pulled away from his arms, carefully and successfully balancing her weight on her own feet. Once he was sure that she wasn't going to fall, he let his arms drop back to his sides. The gesture made him feel strangely empty, but he shoved the thought aside. There was no point in dwelling on it.

After a moment, Orihime lifted her eyes back to his and smiled brightly. "I think I'm all better now," she declared.

His lips twitched at the corners and Ichigo nodded. "Let's go, then," he said as he turned and led the way to the still-open door. His lips curved just a bit more when he sensed Orihime fall immediately in line behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Rukia and<strong> Renji were conspicuously absent from the gathering as Ichigo and Orihime settled at the large, round table a couple of minutes later.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, Orihime flicked her gaze between Ichigo and Urahara as she asked, "Where did Rukia and Renji go?"

Ichigo glanced at her as she spoke before turning a curious, naturally suspicious look to Urahara. He'd been about to ask the same question.

Kisuke Urahara waved his fan absently towards the bright-haired teens as he declared, "Oh, they went back to Soul Society to update the Soul Reapers on our progress! Don't worry about them, they should be back soon!"

Ichigo's trademark scowl was firmly in place as he asked pointedly, "What progress?"

Tessai silently set cups of steaming, freshly brewed tea in front of the teens before moving back and claiming his usual seat behind Urahara.

Urahara remained silent as Tessai moved, his calculating gaze carefully studying Orihime as she automatically wrapped her hands around her cup and lifted it to her nose. She inhaled deeply, her eyes falling shut as she breathed in the fragrance of the tea, before she carefully blew across the top to help it cool.

Urahara's gaze shifted, then, to Ichigo, who was sitting directly to Orihime's left. Ichigo was watching him with narrowed eyes, his patience clearly near its breaking point. The young Vizard's eyes narrowed even more when their gazes met, and Urahara sighed silently. It was time to begin.

"I did mention that I had made a discovery, didn't I?" Urahara asked rhetorically. As he spoke, he bowed his head and lifted his fan, shielding everything but his eyes from their view.

"What kind of discovery, Mr. Urahara?" Orihime asked easily as she shifted her trusting, curious eyes to him.

"Well," Urahara began, "it was surprisingly difficult to dig up any useful information on Junpei Katou. Despite the fact that, a long time ago, he was actually the Captain of Squad Seven, Soul Society's archival records of him were very limited. And, of course, his captaincy had come and gone before the creation of the Department of Research and Development."

Ichigo's hands curled into tight fists on the table top as he snapped, "We already know all that! Don't tell me your discovery was _**nothing**_!"

Orihime's hands tightened around her teacup as her eyes snapped to him at his outburst. She pulled her lip between her teeth silently. It didn't take a genius to figure out why he was upset; their friends had been hurt. And this man they were fighting – a former Captain – probably reminded him too much of Sousuke Aizen.

Kisuke waved his fan dismissively in Ichigo's direction as he almost-laughingly said, "Of course not! I wouldn't make a big deal of calling you in for something like that! I merely want you to appreciate all of the effort that went in to finding the information you're about to hear!"

Ichigo's fists tightened, but he locked his jaw and said nothing. Further argument would only delay the information he wanted to hear and he knew it.

Kisuke lowered the fan to the table, closing it with a simple flick of his thumb, and his exaggerated cheeriness vanished. "Katou's history is still largely unknown. However, with Yoruichi's assistance, I was able to discern the general nature of his zanpakutou's abilities. It seems that his zanpakutou has only _**one**_ real power, which, for lack of a better term, we'll call 'Memory Erosion'."

"Memory Erosion…?" Orihime repeated slowly, her voice soft and confused. She absently set her mostly-full cup back on the table. That wasn't a phrase that made her feel comfortable.

Kisuke nodded somberly. "Yes. His zanpakutou is what I like to call a 'revenge type,' which, unsurprisingly, is incredibly rare. This 'Memory Erosion' technique only activates once the zanpakutou has been broken in battle. At the precise moment that the blade breaks – and, to be clear, I don't mean 'cracks' – it latches on to the opponent's spiritual pressure and _**pulls**_."

When Urahara paused, Ichigo asked, "What do you mean 'pulls'?"

His gaze landing on the table, the former Captain replied, "I admit I'm still unclear on the details. But it seems that the zanpakutou pulls that spiritual pressure out of, or away from, anyone and everyone that that person has been in contact with. When the spiritual pressure is removed, it is somehow replaced with lingering effects of the zanpakutou's, and this combination works to effectively erase the opponent from the memories of those individuals."

A long silence hung in the air as Ichigo's and Orihime's eyes widened.

At length, Orihime whispered, "I…don't understand. So, you're saying that Katou's zanpakutou can somehow erase its opponent from the memories of _**everyone**_ they've ever interacted with?"

"Essentially, yes," Urahara replied with a short nod.

"But, that's impossible!" Orihime insisted as a lump settled in her throat. They'd already fought Katou twice – the more recent of those battles being the one that had nearly killed Ichigo and the others. And Ichigo had, of course, vowed to defeat him. _But, if Mr. Urahara is right, and Ichigo does defeat him…that would mean that…we'll all…_**forget**_ him!_

She refused to believe it. They had seen plenty of impossible, terrifying, things in the last couple of years, but there was no way – _**no way**_ – she could ever forget Ichigo.

"Unfortunately," Kisuke began carefully, lifting his gaze from the table, "Yoruichi and I have both found cases that prove it is _**quite**_ possible."

"That doesn't make sense," Ichigo interrupted, eyes narrowed half in confusion and half in anger, "if he'd been defeated before, we wouldn't be having this problem!"

"Come now, Ichigo," Kisuke said, his exaggerated cheeriness briefly returning, "you and I both know that there's a difference between 'defeated' and 'dead'."

Ichigo's scowl deepened but he said nothing. Urahara was right. He had defeated plenty of opponents – most of whom he had _**not**_ killed. And he knew perfectly well that a Soul Reaper's zanpakutou was restored once that Soul Reaper lost consciousness.

"But," Orihime began again, her voice indicating her obvious inability to accept this answer, "how could you have found any of this out, then?"

Kisuke answered easily, his tone somber once more. "Those individuals who have defeated Katou in the past are still alive – or, at least, three of them are. Yoruichi discovered the first two quite by accident, and they pointed us to the third. All three of them told us what happened."

He paused, glancing between the pair before he elaborated. "They still exist on paper. Their names are still listed in all the proper places, and a few of their peers even have passing memories of them – things like passing them in hallways, or having heard their names before. But, for example, the third man had a wife, a young son, and friends. His wife, and his friends, have _**no**_ memory of him from before his victory over Katou, not beyond those simple examples I illustrated. Not even to this day."

After another pause, in which he watched both of their eyes widen and the faintest glimmer of tears shine, briefly, in Orihime's eyes, Kisuke continued. "However, this same man provided us with the realization that there are a couple of exceptions to Katou's ability. Blood relations retain all of their memories. In his case, his son – who's not so young anymore – still remembers his father. And, because of his son, he's able to maintain a relationship – strained though I'm sure it is – with his wife. Although they're not married anymore."

Ichigo's voice was tight and nearly unreadable as he asked, "And the other exception?"

Inclining his head, Kisuke replied, "This ability is also limited to the dimension it's in. For example, the same man had a friend on duty in the World of the Living when he defeated Katou. That friend, who of course has since returned to the Soul Society, still remembers him exactly as he should."

"How come there isn't more documentation about this?" Orihime asked suddenly, her fists clenched tightly in her lap beneath the table. "Why didn't those people who lost their memories _**say something**_? Wouldn't they have wondered about a gap like that?"

Kisuke shook his head slowly. "No. Yoruichi spoke with the wife I mentioned, asking her about that very thing. Apparently, when the memories are removed, the subconscious naturally fills in the blanks with the most reasonable substitution. If a memory is too heavily influenced by the person whose memory is removed, then the remaining fragments of the memory become faded and unclear. The sort of memory you look back on and realize you don't remember well at all."

For a long moment the room was filled only with a tense, heavy silence.

Ichigo glared at the table in front of him, his fists curled tightly on either side of his abandoned tea.

Orihime stared at her own tightly clenched fists, still hidden mostly beneath the table, though her eyes were unfocused and filled with unshed tears.

At length, Ichigo swallowed heavily and said, "So…when I defeat him, only my family will remember me? And anyone who's over in Soul Society?"

With a slow nod of his head, Kisuke replied, "Mostly, yes. Tessai and myself, along with the Vizards, will also remember you. These gigai that I designed for us are a bit more…special than ordinary gigai; I would be incredibly surprised if Katou's zanpakutou was able to reach us."

Ichigo forcibly unclenched his jaw as he asked, "Then can't you figure out a way to keep it from happening? I mean, I don't give a damn if my _**teachers**_ forget about me, but I don't want to lose my friends like that!"

"In theory," Kisuke replied calmly, his gaze again switching between the pair, "I could do that. However I'll need time; time we may not have."

Voice nearly a growl, Ichigo said, "Then get on it."

Orihime's voice was barely a whisper as, without looking up, she asked, "Wh-what about me? Can't I just reject the memory loss somehow? I could go to the Soul Society until the fighting is over, and then come back and fix it all."

Kisuke watched as Ichigo began to relax at the idea, clearly thinking she had a point. With a silent sigh he said, "I'm afraid there's no guarantee that would work. This ability erases the memories…I wouldn't encourage you to put your faith in that plan."

Both teens had turned to look at him once again, but it was Ichigo who said, "But there's a chance, right?"

"Well," Kisuke began, hesitating slightly. He didn't want to give them false hope. At length, he finally replied, "Nothing's impossible, of course. It would certainly be worth a try." He didn't say what he knew they were all thinking.

If the plan failed, then at least _**Orihime**_ would still remember Ichigo.

It was an option that both desperately needed to keep alive. Ichigo was the only one strong enough to beat their new enemy. But even Ichigo would hesitate with something like that on the line. Keeping his family wouldn't be enough; especially not with the near-guarantee of losing Orihime.

This time it was Orihime who broke the silence, her voice quiet and resigned, though surprisingly stable. She kept her eyes on her lap as she asked, "Mr. Tessai, can you please take over healing Chad and Uryuu? I can't heal them if I go to Soul Society, but they're not ready to heal on their own."

Tessai inclined his head. "Of course, Orihime," he replied.

Kisuke pushed to his feet, slipping his fan back into his sleeve as he declared, "Well, I'd better get the senkaimon ready, then. It'll take several minutes; I'll send Ururu to let you know when it's ready." Without another word, or a pause, Kisuke turned and swept from the room.

Easing to his feet almost immediately, Tessai said, "I'll take over the healing now."

Silence reigned in the room until the door slid solidly shut behind the large man and his footsteps had faded away.

"Orihime," Ichigo began after a moment, his voice tight and his eyes focused intently on the table.

Orihime's gaze automatically focused and her eyes lifted from her lap until they were studying the profile of the man beside her. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw was tight, and his scowl was practically carved into his mouth. But none of this surprised her.

Ichigo knew she was watching him, and he knew she was waiting for him to continue, so he forced the rest of the words past his lips. "I want you to leave for the Soul Society as soon as Urahara gets the senkaimon open."

There were a thousand things Orihime wanted to say, but she knew the time wasn't right. So she swallowed her reflexive argument – born more from her constant desire to be close to him than from any rational thought – and slowly nodded her head. "Alright."

"And I want you to stay there until I come to get you," Ichigo elaborated, still keeping his gaze locked onto the table. "No matter what reports you hear, do not come back without me."

Orihime's hands twisted the fabric of her skirt subconsciously. She had to swallow back her fear of what might happen to him – he probably _**would**_ get hurt, and he certainly wouldn't come for her before his wounds were healed, but she was going to have to let that go this time.

Ichigo finally pulled his eyes from the table and turned to look at the girl sitting beside him. Their gazes met, and he silently pleaded with her to understand his reasoning as he said, "I promise I'll come back for you the moment this is over. But until then I _**need**_ to know you're safe."

Offering him the best smile she could muster, Orihime fought back another round of tears and nodded. "I promise that I'll wait for you, as long as you keep your promise to come back for me." _More importantly,_ her mind added, _please promise to come back _**to**_ me._

Ichigo's expression softened, though he wasn't quite able to manage a smile, and he inclined his head. "Deal," he said.

The slim line of tears in her eyes faded away as Shun'ou and Ayame returned to her, their mission having been taken over by Tessai. "I guess I should go downstairs, then, and wait for the senkaimon," Orihime said quietly. She wanted to stay longer – to stay beside Ichigo for a few more minutes – but time was of the essence.

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, unable to hold her gaze any longer. He was reluctant to let her leave his side already, but this time – more than any other – he needed to get her as far away from the fight as possible, as quickly as possible.

With a subconscious, self-motivating nod, Orihime released her skirt and shifted to push to her feet. She noticed, as she moved, that Ichigo was shifting as well. _Maybe he'll walk me to the ladder?_ It was certainly possible, she supposed.

Neither were fully on their feet when an explosion rocked the shop, shaking the ground beneath them.

Orihime cried out, and for the second time in less than an hour she suddenly found herself held securely in Ichigo's arms. His grip was tighter this time, though still not painful, and this time Orihime's hands shifted and curled into the sides of his shihakushou. That explosion could only have meant one thing.

It was time to go.

Ichigo carefully set Orihime back on her feet and forced himself to release her. Now was not the time for lingering touches and long goodbyes.

"Ichigo," Orihime began, taking his cue and releasing his uniform even as she looked up, into his eyes.

His warm brown eyes had hardened with awareness of his upcoming battle, and glowed with his determination to win. And then they shifted from the wall behind them to her own eyes, and something new joined the emotions shining in their depths. Something vaguely familiar, and wholly unknown.

"Go, please," Ichigo instructed. He hated saying the words. Knowing what was at stake made even those simple words feel like the worst kind of farewell.

Orihime nodded and took a step back. "Please be careful," she said softly, her concern obvious. With a brief, reassuring, trusting smile she turned, then, and ran for the door that would take her to the back of the shop.

Ichigo watched her leave with mixed feelings.

It wasn't until the ground shook beneath his feet a second time, the echoing blast of the explosion sounding closer than before, that he was able to snap himself out of it. _What am I thinking? She'll be fine. All I have to do is drag the fight out a few minutes; give her time to leave this dimension._

And, considering the damage he'd taken in the previous battle, that really shouldn't prove to be too difficult.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ And just like that, the first chapter is over! I hope it wasn't too confusing (but if it felt that way, please try the next chapter before you ask questions – I'm hoping that these first two chapters will cover pretty much everything)! Please let me know what you're thinking so far, and obviously do go read chapter two!


	2. Consequences

_**A/N:**_ Hello, and thanks for opting to give this story a chance! I'm going to let this chapter pretty much speak for itself, so all I'll say is: please forgive minor errors/OOCness, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Warning:** Emotional chapter. I recommend tissues and/or chocolate.

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own Bleach. I'm beginning to think it's a conspiracy…LOL

**Holding On**

**Chapter Two: Consequences**

** Ichigo cursed** under his breath when he finally spotted his opponent. He only barely managed to release his bankai and block Katou's sword before the unassuming silver blade buried itself in Jinta's torso.

"You bastard!" Ichigo growled, Tensa Zangetsu holding strong against the tip of the other zanpakutou. "Now you're coming after kids, too?"

Katou pulled his sword away from Ichigo and easily leapt backwards, into the air.

With his sword hanging casually at his side, the older man lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you technically a child as well?"

"Tch," Ichigo scoffed, "Not hardly." With barely a thought, he kicked off of the ground, hoping to put some distance between the fight and the shop. As he rose he risked a glance back at the unconscious boy he'd saved.

Jinta was lying on his back, one arm over his head, his favorite weapon still two full body-lengths out of reach. He was bleeding, but not horribly; he'd be fine even without kidou.

"What does the boy matter to you, anyway?" Katou asked curiously as he watched Ichigo come to stand across from him.

"Maybe I just don't like guys who pick on people weaker than them," Ichigo returned, subconsciously adjusting his grip on his sword.

"An interesting philosophy," Katou murmured thoughtfully. He shifted his head as he studied Ichigo and a strand of faded blond hair fell across his face, the tip of it tickling his nose. As he narrowed his dark eyes he asked, "So, tell me, does that mean you're angry with me for what I did to you and your friends earlier?"

"Something like that, yeah," Ichigo said. His hollow shifted in the back of his mind, eager to join the fight, but Ichigo ignored him. They needed more time.

* * *

><p><strong>Orihime paused,<strong> her foot on the first rung of the ladder, when Ichigo's spiritual pressure spiked. _He released his bankai already…?_ Surely he wouldn't have done that unless there'd been a need for it. And that simple thought nearly had her propelling herself back into the shop.

_No,_ Orihime reminded herself, her palms braced fully on the floor beside the top of the ladder. _I can't go to him; not this time. And…he's alright. So I just need to focus on keeping my end of our deal._

Taking a deep breath, Orihime dragged her hands back to the ladder and did her best to ignore the fluctuations in Ichigo's spiritual pressure that indicated he was fighting.

_He'll be okay,_ she told herself as she climbed. _He promised to come back to me._

With that thought firmly in mind, Orihime scaled the tall ladder as quickly as she dared.

_Why does everything take longer when you're waiting for it?_ Orihime wondered after another glance toward the bottom, revealing that she had several rungs to go before she met the ground.

And then she had finally reached the bottom, and Orihime released the ladder, letting herself drop to the rocky dirt that made up the floor of Urahara's basement. She still had to make it all the way to the senkaimon, which was past a couple of rock formations, and so as soon as she got her feet beneath her Orihime broke into a run. She could only hope that it was ready.

* * *

><p><strong>"Are you<strong> swinging wide on purpose?" Katou asked as he easily dodged another swipe of Ichigo's sword.

Ichigo ground his teeth at the accusation. He wasn't good at holding back in a fight; it felt wrong, and it went against everything he'd been taught. But Katou was right; he was swinging wide on purpose. He could still sense Orihime's spiritual pressure, which meant she hadn't left yet. So he couldn't risk an easy victory.

Katou raised a pale eyebrow at the silence that greeted his question. And then his lips curved in a slow, dangerous smirk. "Ah, I see. You must have learned about my zanpakutou's ability. And I take it that you're working on some sort of strategy now."

Pulling Tensa Zangetsu back, Ichigo shifted and swung a hard kick at his opponent. There was no way his foot could break the man's sword, after all. As his foot connected with the older man's torso, Ichigo snapped, "Do me a favor and shut up!"

Katou let himself fly backward with the momentum of the kick, eventually arching into a back-flip and coming to a stop. "How interesting…. Tell me, boy, are you willing to die just to ensure that your loved ones don't forget you?"

Ichigo leveled a dark glare at the man, tensed and ready for his next attack. "That's not gonna be an issue," he promised.

"We'll see," Katou murmured. An instant later he vanished in a flash-step.

Ichigo cursed and spun, reflexively bringing his sword up to block Katou's attack. The zanpakutous crashed together mere inches from Ichigo's heart, Tensa Zangetsu braced against Ichigo's left wrist for extra support. For a long moment they hung there, with the tip of Katou's zanpakutou pressed into the flat side of Ichigo's.

And then a slim crack formed in the tip of Katou's blade, quickly racing down to the guard.

Ichigo's eyes widened at the impossible sight. _There's no way,_ his mind whispered. _That impact shouldn't have been enough to make it crack like that!_

Katou smirked, holding his position, and said, "I'll let you in on a secret, boy. Because of my zanpakutou's ability, it tends to shatter easily. The tip has always been a weak point in its composition."

Even as his words registered, the silver blade shattered. Dozens of fragments hung in the air for a split-second, before falling helplessly to the pull of gravity.

"_**No!**_" Ichigo cried, his heart slamming against his ribs as his blood ran cold. His attention was almost immediately dragged from the falling fragments, however, when he registered the murmured words Katou was chanting.

A quick flash-step took him out of the way of the kidou blast, and Ichigo tightened his fist around Tensa Zangetsu's hilt.

There was only one thing left to do now.

* * *

><p><strong>Her goal<strong> was in sight now, and Orihime allowed herself to breathe the first sigh of relief. The senkaimon was flickering to life; by the time she reached it, she would undoubtedly be able to run straight through. She wasn't sure if she'd be safe just by being in the dangai, so she intended to run as fast as she could until she was once again in Soul Society.

But, just as Urahara lifted his head to smile over at her, a strange wave of energy rolled into Orihime.

Her eyes widened and she stumbled, falling to her knees as she cried out in surprise as much as pain. The energy felt like it had gathered at the pit of her stomach, and now it was rolling and swirling, making her nauseas. And suddenly a myriad of disconnected images, all of Ichigo, were rapidly flashing through her mind.

Orihime's breath caught in her throat as she realized the only thing at all that that could mean. _No…it can't be!_

_"…I'll definitely protect you!"_ Ichigo's voice was inside her head, and Orihime was suddenly once again looking into his fierce, determined brown eyes as he allowed himself to remain half-bowed before her.

The image shattered, and Orihime was thrown into Hueco Mundo, standing atop a damaged tower with Grimmjow's hand loosely wrapped around her throat. Ichigo's hand had latched on to Grimmjow's elbow, and even from her angle she could see the whites of his knuckles. _"Let go of her."_

And then, just as suddenly, she was kneeling on top of Sokyouku Hill, and Ichigo was lying on his back before her. She could feel the relief still pouring through her as she fought uselessly against her tears and smiled down at him, her heart fluttering from the soft, faint almost-smile he'd offered her in return. _"No, thank _**you**_, Orihime."_

The words had barely settled in her memory before she was even farther back, kneeling in shocked relief on her own carpet, staring up at Ichigo and trying not to gape at the sight of the unnaturally large sword he held. She was confused, frightened, and yet relieved all at once. He looked back at her, then, and as soon as their eyes met the memory switched.

Memories flooded her, fast-forwarding through some, slowing down through others. They didn't come in any order, popping up and fading away unpredictably. Until her own words drifted through her mind as she gazed at the resting face of the man she loved.

_"…I would have fallen in love with the same person…."_ There was a pause as the image lingered over his features, taking in the curve of his cheek bones and angle of his jaw, as well as the way his hair tickled his forehead, and the slight part of his lips. _"Thank you, Ichigo. Goodbye."_

Orihime's heart lurched in her chest as the memory began to fade. This fading wasn't like the others; most of those had switched fairly suddenly, sometimes shattering outright or just being overrun by the next. But this was different. This time it was slowly disappearing, fading into the background.

Fading into deep, dark, nothingness.

_No!_ her mind shouted, her fingers subconsciously digging into the dirt and rock beneath her. She didn't even notice the tears streaming down her cheeks. _Come back! __**Please!**_

The swirling in her stomach paused, and then it lurched up powerfully, and Orihime swore she could feel Ichigo's spiritual pressure tear out of her very heart. The process was painful, both physically and mentally, and Orihime didn't even try to stop the scream that tore from her throat as the image in her mind finally became solid black.

For a moment she continued to cry, sucking in ragged, painful breaths. Her heart hurt in a way that she had hoped to never feel again. But even as she realized she couldn't specifically recall when it had last felt that way, everything swam around her and the blackness in her mind expanded, encompassing her surroundings as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Urahara was <strong>kneeling beside Orihime's unconscious form, the gate for the senkaimon closed and forgotten behind him, when Ichigo appeared before them.

Ichigo barely even registered the sight – and presence – of the shopkeeper as Tensa Zangetsu slipped from his suddenly-numb fingers and he collapsed to his knees beside Orihime.

She was breathing easily, and were it not for the new smudge of dirt adorning her face – joining the old bruises from the earlier fight – there would have been no indication that something was wrong.

"Orihime," Ichigo choked, reaching out for her carefully. His hand hesitated above her shoulder, and he swallowed heavily.

"She's unconscious," Urahara declared softly. "But other than the bump on her head from her fall, she's not hurt."

Ichigo's eyes lifted from her face, finding Urahara's almost desperately. "What about…?" He couldn't make himself finish the question.

The barely-contained anguish, surrounded by guilt and desperation, in Ichigo's eyes was too much for the older man to take. It wasn't until his gaze had settled on the ladder, well beyond Ichigo, that Urahara finally replied, "You know the answer to that. And I was watching her face as it happened."

Ichigo's gaze had already re-focused on Orihime's face, and he easily spotted the barely-dried tear stains lining her cheeks. Her eyelashes still glistened with her residual tears.

It was the evidence of her tears that broke him. He knew she would have cried if she had realized what was happening; and cried terribly.

His hand finally landed on her shoulder and slid, lightly, down her arm until he had wrapped his fingers around her slim hand. Clenching her hand as tightly as he dared, Ichigo slammed his free fist into the ground between his knee and her shoulder and bowed his head as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He had lost her. He had lost her, and all of his friends.

Chad. Uryuu. Tatsuki. Keigo and Mizuiro. His boss wouldn't remember him – he'd need to find a new job – and probably neither would his teachers, or the underclassmen on the soccer team. Even Urahara's kids would probably forget him. He wasn't even sure that Kon would remember him.

_Orihime…_ his mind whispered as his thumb ran across the back of her hand once again. His throat was swollen in an unfamiliar way, making it hard for him to swallow, and his eyes burned as a single stream of tears slipped down his cheek. _Dammit!_

"I'm sorry, Ichigo," Urahara said quietly as he observed the scene in front of him.

Ichigo's jaw ticked visibly, but he was unable to respond. He kept his head bowed and his eyes tightly shut.

Urahara accepted the silence for what it was, and let it linger for a long minute. But he couldn't let it stretch for too long, and so with a heavy heart he carefully asked, "Could you tell me…what happened with Katou?"

Ichigo's hand tightened, briefly, around Orihime's when the name fell from Urahara's lips. But he sucked in a heavy breath through his nose and forced his jaw to unclench enough for him to answer the question anyway. His voice was tight, low, and choked when he said, "He won't be a problem again."

Faintly inclining his head, Urahara replied, "Good." He hesitated, then, knowing that what he had to say next would be hard for the young Vizard to hear. "Ichigo…to be safe, she should be home when she wakes up."

Swallowing heavily, Ichigo once again forced his jaw to loosen and said, "I'll take her."

"Are you sure…?" Urahara questioned.

"I…" Ichigo paused, pulling in another deep breath, and managed to lift his head and meet Urahara's gaze. "I need the time." He knew the desperation he was feeling was obvious in his eyes, and a part of him hated letting it show, but there was no sense in hiding it. Kisuke Urahara was an incredibly observant man – he'd have seen it anyway.

"Of course," Urahara replied with an incline of his head. He broke from Ichigo's gaze as soon as he was able, but even as he did so he knew that that look would haunt him for a long time.

Ichigo's eyes drifted back to Orihime's resting form and he swallowed again before asking, "What about the others?"

"Don't worry about them," Urahara assured him calmly. "We'll keep them sedated until they're healed, and then see that they get home safely."

"Right," Ichigo mumbled.

It was time to take Orihime home. And once he did that, he would have to find the strength to walk out of her life.

* * *

><p><strong>He kept<strong> the lights off in the small apartment as he settled Orihime onto her futon in her bedroom. Her curtains were still partially parted, allowing the faint light of the newly-risen moon to filter in. The light illuminated only part of her room, but it danced across her peaceful features gently, giving her skin and hair an ethereal glow.

In that moment, her beauty took his breath away. But it was bittersweet, because he knew he would never be close enough to see her that way again.

Ichigo locked his jaw tightly, stubbornly fighting back against the burning in his eyes. His hand strayed and once again curved around hers, and he let his touch linger. He allowed himself to fit his hand around her own, to memorize the feel of her soft, smooth, warm skin against his calloused, hardened skin. And he curled his free hand into a fist over his knee to keep from reaching for her face.

The need to touch her had never been so strong.

_But it's too late,_ he reminded himself. The simple fact was that touching her now (more than he already was) would be too much like taking advantage of her. And that was something he would never do.

Ichigo took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions, and squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. _It…smells like her,_ his mind whispered almost reverently.

His eyes pulled open, slowly dragging across her face.

Her skin was smooth as it stretched flawlessly across her cheekbones, over her nose, and above her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted in sleep, and her nostrils flared ever-so-slightly with each breath she inhaled. A stray strand of her long, auburn hair had fallen into her face, and Ichigo's hand itched to brush it aside.

For a moment, as he stared at her, his heart shattering in his chest, he found himself wishing he'd done things differently.

_I wish I'd told her,_ he thought, swallowing as best he could around the newly-returned lump in his throat. _Just once. Why didn't I ever tell her?_

Entirely oblivious to the thin line of liquid trailing from the corner of one eye, he decided that not telling her how he felt wasn't what he regretted the most.

_I could have at least asked her out,_ he realized. How much would it have hurt – really – to at least take her on a date? Sure, there was a chance she would only have said yes because they were friends and she would have been afraid of hurting his feelings. But if he could have managed to get a first date, he knew he'd have done whatever it took to reach her heart.

Only he'd never given himself the chance.

_Any chance I ever had is gone,_ he thought. And even as the words scraped across his mind, a new realization dawned.

It wouldn't really have mattered if he'd done things differently with her. At the end of the day, this fight would still have gone exactly as it did. Katou would still have deliberately let his zanpakutou shatter, and Orihime would still have lost her memories of him.

The only difference would have been _**his**_ memories of _**her**_.

Eyes narrowed in thought, Ichigo found himself wondering, _Could I have handled losing her, if I had the memory of holding her in my arms? If I knew what it was like to kiss her…could I learn how to live without being able to kiss her again?_

He shook his head at himself when he realized what he was thinking. It was pointless, because that situation wasn't the one he was in.

With a silent, bitter laugh he added, _It doesn't matter. The fact is that I don't even know how I'm going to handle losing her _**now**_._

And the worst part was that he couldn't even let himself wish that Katou had killed him. Because if he had died – and, therefore, everyone's memories had remained intact – Orihime would have suffered.

Ichigo's eyes drifted shut again as he let the memory wash over him. He let Orihime's heartfelt words, made all the more powerful by her freely-flowing tears, surround his heart.

_"Please don't die," she had said._

He had never seen a more desperate, pleading expression in his life. And, even now, he couldn't breathe as she spoke – as she cried.

_"…just don't get hurt. I couldn't bear it."_

That was why he couldn't even wish he had died in this fight. He had sworn, then and there, to never make her cry for him again. And he had sworn to always survive – to always return – for her sake.

He had just never counted on not having her there, waiting for him.

Forcing his eyes open, Ichigo sucked in a ragged breath and squeezed the slender hand that still rested in his. He knew that the longer he stayed the more he risked an awkward, heart-wrenching encounter if she happened to wake up. He needed to go.

"I guess," Ichigo began, unaware that he had intended to speak until the words were already spilling from his lips, "this is sort of goodbye, then, Orihime. Everything will be different…when I see you again. But please, God, be safe. Be careful."

Without thinking, Ichigo leaned forward and bowed his head until his forehead was pressed against her temple. Her scent wafted around him, and he let himself drag in a long, deep breath before he finally released the words that had been locked inside of him.

A final, lone tear slipped from his cheek, to land in her hair as he whispered, "I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>It was<strong> hard to feel guilty for worrying his family, Ichigo decided, as he pushed his bedroom door shut behind him. He knew he'd been out late, without any explanation, and ordinarily he felt at least a twinge of guilt when Yuzu made that face. And he was sure (or at least he hoped) that he'd feel a bit guilty come morning.

But right now, he couldn't. He felt guilty enough for what he'd allowed to happen to his friends. And he wasn't even able to dwell on that, because, in all honesty, all he could _**feel**_ was hurt.

How long had it been since he had _**ached**_ so deeply?

He hadn't even realized how much of his heart seemed to have healed in the last couple of years (which he was sure was largely Orihime's doing), and now his newly-healed heart was shattering all over again.

_How the hell could I let that happen?_ It was the only thing he could think. And there was certainly no thought worth moving to until he had an acceptable answer.

With another silent curse, Ichigo managed to push himself off of his door and move toward his bed. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would wake up in the morning to discover that this had all been some horrible nightmare.

But he had never been the lucky type.

Ichigo let himself collapse, face-first, onto his mattress. One of his legs hung awkwardly in the air from his careless angle, and the other foot landed squarely on his pillow.

It was a long moment before he registered the sound – and feel – of a now-crumpled piece of paper beneath his foot.

Knowing he should be curious, Ichigo pushed to a sitting position, shifting around so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He reached over, then, and easily lifted the paper from his pillow.

The paper had been, most likely, torn from a notebook, as it was a full sheet of lined paper, but torn along one edge. The note itself was handwritten, and the style wasn't one Ichigo recognized. But that really only ruled out a handful of people (although it also ruled out Urahara, just because the note-on-pillow method was far too tame for him).

And then Ichigo's focus shifted to the actual words that had been written on the paper he now held.

UNLESS I'VE UNDERESTIMATED YOU, I'M SURE BY NOW YOU'VE MANAGED TO DEFEAT ME, AND THEREBY YOU HAVE ALSO MANAGED TO LOSE THOSE CLOSEST TO YOU. PERHAPS YOU'RE AWARE OF THIS ALREADY, BUT IN CASE YOU'RE NOT, I THOUGHT I MIGHT 'CLUE YOU IN' ON A LITTLE SECRET ABOUT MY ZANPAKUTOU'S ABILITY. YOU SEE, LIKE EVERY OTHER ZANPAKUTOU, MINE HAS A LOOPHOLE, IF YOU WILL. THERE IS, IN THEORY, A WAY TO 'REVERSE' THE MEMORY LOSS OF YOUR FRIENDS. OF COURSE, I SHOULD WARN YOU, THIS REVERSAL METHOD IS NOT EASY. IN FACT, NONE OF THE OTHER VICTIMS OF MY ZANPAKUTOU HAVE EVER MANAGED TO ACHIEVE IT. BUT, I'LL ADMIT, I AM CURIOUS TO KNOW IF IT'S POSSIBLE, AND SO I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU NEED TO DO:

YOU MUST RESTORE YOUR LOST RELATIONSHIPS 'THE OLD FASHIONED WAY'. AND, IF, FOR EXAMPLE, YOUR BEST FRIEND FINDS HIMSELF THINKING OF YOU _**PRECISELY** _AS HE DID BEFORE HIS MEMORIES WERE STRIPPED FROM HIM, THEN THE 'SPELL' WILL BREAK AND HIS MEMORIES WILL RETURN. BUT THIS DOES NOT MEAN HE MUST SIMPLY CONSIDER YOU HIS BEST FRIEND AGAIN. HE MUST FEEL _**EXACTLY** _AS HE USED TO FEEL IN REGARDS TO YOU AND YOUR FRIENDSHIP. HE MUST STILL BE IMPRESSED BY THOSE THINGS THAT USED TO IMPRESS HIM, AND IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY, AT EXACTLY THE SAME LEVEL. ETC, ETC, OF COURSE.

GOOD LUCK, ICHIGO KUROSAKI. IF ONLY FOR THE SAKE OF MY CURIOSITY, I TRULY HOPE YOU MANAGE TO RESTORE AT LEAST ONE OF YOUR LOST RELATIONSHIPS.

- JUNPEI KATOU

Ichigo stared, dumbfounded, at the paper in his hand. He read it again, slowly, as he tried to process everything it said. And, after the third read, he decided he had only one decision to make: was it a chance he could afford to lose?

The answer was easy. No, of course not.

He realized, of course, that it was probable that this letter was some sort of joke. It was possible that Katou had thought it'd be funny to watch him run around trying to get his friends back. In fact, he figured, it was probably more likely than not that the letter was a joke.

But if there was even the _**tiniest**_ chance that it _**wasn't**_ a joke, he couldn't ignore it.

He could push forward, shove his pain to some dark corner in his mind, and really _**function**_ if he had even the slightest hope.

So he would fight. Only this time, he wouldn't be fighting with a sword, or a mask, or even his fists. But he would fight anyway, and harder than he had ever fought before, in order to get his friends back.

Ichigo's eyes lifted from the paper as his determination flared within him. He could do this, and he knew it. He _**would**_ get them back.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Do you hate me? Am I cruel? Hopefully the answer to those questions is 'no' (or at least 'no' and 'only a little' LOL), but fear not! I promise I have a plan! And it does _**not**_ involve breaking everybody's hearts (again…)! So, if you could, please review to let me know what you're thinking so far, and then stick around for the next chapter!


	3. Starting Over

_**A/N:**_ Hi everybody! Happy New Year and welcome to chapter three! I don't have a whole lot to add here, so I'll just say that I hope you enjoy this installment! (Oh, and, you know: please forgive OOCness and/or minor errors…these things happen, sadly).

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own Bleach. I think my petition got lost in the mail…. ^_~

**Holding On**

**Chapter Three: Starting Over**

** Ichigo paused** as he stepped into the back room of Urahara's shop early Monday morning. As expected, the shopkeeper was seated in his usual spot, a steaming mug of tea and an empty plate in front of him. What threw Ichigo off was the man sitting a bit to Kisuke's right, and to the left of the seat that Ichigo usually claimed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Old Man?" Ichigo asked as he collected himself and pulled the door shut behind him.

Isshin Kurosaki grinned as he watched his son sit before saying, "Well, good morning to you, my boy! Don't tell me you haven't missed Daddy while he's been away?"

Ichigo grunted, looking away and doing his best to resist the urge to slam his fist into his father's face. "Why would I miss being woken up with your damned elbow in my ribcage?"

Lifting one arm to cover his face, Isshin dramatically called, "Kisuke, do you see? Do you see the way my only son treats me?"

Feeling the ends of his admittedly-fragile temper beginning to fray, Ichigo pointedly ignored his wailing father and turned his narrowed eyes to Kisuke. "Why did you call me here?"

Kisuke waited until he'd returned his tea to the small plate before he quietly replied, "I took the liberty of explaining your current…_**situation**_ to your father; I didn't think you would want to."

Isshin's arms returned to his lap, his forced exuberance vanishing, and he said nothing.

Ichigo's eyes flicked to his father for a moment before shifting to glare at the table in front of him. Urahara was right – he hadn't been looking forward to that conversation. _The idiot sure picked a hell of a weekend to have an out-of-town conference._ Not that it would have changed anything, other than the fact that Isshin had been unaware of the problem.

After a prolonged moment of silence, Kisuke continued. "Also, may I see your watch, Ichigo?"

Startled at the odd question, Ichigo automatically unlatched his wristwatch and tossed it to the older man. "What for?"

Kisuke pulled a small chip from within the folds of his robes, turning the bulk of his attention to Ichigo's watch as he began taking it apart carefully. "This device," the former Soul Reaper began, "is what you might call a 'spiritual pressure suppressant.' It won't do all the work, of course, but it will take its cue from you. If you put in any effort whatsoever to suppress your own energy, then this little trinket will maximize your efforts. Of course, it only works if you're in your body; you'll have to do all the work yourself in Soul Reaper form."

By the time he was done speaking, Kisuke had finished inserting the chip into the watch, and he tossed it back to Ichigo with a triumphant smirk.

As Ichigo re-secured the watch around his wrist, the shopkeeper reached back into his robes and added, "Oh, and I also took another liberty for you."

Ichigo looked up, confused, as several envelopes of varying sizes landed on the table. When they settled, Ichigo realized that each envelope was labeled with one person's name – there was an envelope for nearly all of his friends.

"Obviously, with their memory loss, each of your friends would be confused if they stumbled upon a picture of you," Kisuke explained as he spread the envelopes out for better inspection. "So I appropriated these photographs, to store for safe-keeping. I would be happy to return them, of course, should we find a way to restore their memories. However…I doubt very much that anyone would mind if you wanted to take a few for yourself?"

Ichigo's eyes were locked on the envelopes for a long minute. He wasn't surprised to note that Tatsuki's and Orihime's were the largest (or that Uryuu's was the smallest). But the pictures hidden within weren't his, and he had no intention of taking them. So, after a stretch of patient silence, Ichigo looked away and said, "No."

Kisuke's hands retreated to his lap and he inclined his head. "Very well, then. You should also know that I erased all of your information from their phones and various internet address books."

Fists clenching over the table, Ichigo managed, "Thanks." He waited a beat before finally pushing to his feet, lifting his school bag, and adding, "I have to get to class."

Isshin and Kisuke watched in silence as Ichigo walked from the room.

* * *

><p><strong>"Oh, good<strong> morning, Uryuu!" Orihime chirped as she rounded the corner, headed toward her classroom.

The young man in question paused mid-step and turned enough to offer a faint smile to her. "Good morning, Orihime," he replied calmly. As he lifted his free hand to adjust his glasses, he asked, "How was your weekend?"

Orihime smiled easily as she fell into step beside him. "It was pretty good! I worked a long shift on Saturday, but that's okay, because it just means extra money, you know? And then I somehow managed to sleep in way late on Sunday. In fact, I slept in so late that I was tired for most of the rest of the day!"

She paused, then, and pulled one hand from her school bag to tap her chin as she asked, "You know, I was thinking about that, too, and it doesn't make a lot of sense. Have you ever thought about that? I wonder why it is that when you get extra sleep, you end up being more tired?"

Bowing his head faintly, so that the light reflected off of his glasses, Uryuu replied, "I can't say I've given it much thought, I'm afraid."

They reached the classroom as he finished speaking, and Orihime stepped up to pull the door open. As she held it open, she smiled and said, "Oh, that's alright! I was just rambling, anyway! After you!"

"Uh, thanks, Orihime," Uryuu accepted awkwardly. He adjusted his glasses again as he stepped through the open doorway, into the classroom.

Orihime moved to follow her friend when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision and she paused, turning to offer a friendly smile to her classmate. "Oh, good morning! I didn't see you there, I'm sorry!"

Ichigo forcibly unclenched his jaw, and he quickly dropped Orihime's gaze as he said, "It's alright. Good morning."

"You can go in ahead of me, it's fine," Orihime offered politely. _You know,_ she realized, _I don't think I've ever actually talked to him before…how weird is that?_

Reflexively, Ichigo lifted his gaze back to hers for an instant, before remembering why he'd looked away so quickly. He couldn't stand the blank look in her eyes – the lack of recognition or familiarity.

She was looking at him like he was a complete stranger.

It made him want to throw up. Or break his fist in someone's face.

Clearing his throat, Ichigo managed, "Thanks." He opted not to address her by name; he didn't know how much her memory had retained about him. _Does she even recognize that I'm in her class?_ It seemed like she did, but at the same time, it was Orihime; she was so incredibly trusting that she probably wouldn't question his being there anyway.

Without another word, Ichigo forced his body to move forward. The hand in his pocket curled into a tight fist, and he was gripping the handle of his school bag so hard that his blunt nails were digging into his palm.

He had watched her entire interaction with Uryuu, as he had been trailing behind her practically since he'd arrived at school that morning. Never once had she turned to look behind her, or even paused in a way that might indicate that she sensed she was being followed. Even Uryuu hadn't seemed to notice him, which was unusual for the annoyingly-observant Quincy.

But what Ichigo had really noticed as he'd trailed behind the healer wasn't any of that – he had expected, at least to a degree, to suddenly be invisible to her – but that she herself seemed different. Her smile was bigger, it was true, but he'd gotten a glimpse of her face a couple of times before it had been aimed at him, and each time he'd noticed that that big smile just felt…fake.

It wasn't that he doubted that she was happy to see her friends, and he was almost positive that she _**wanted**_ to feel the happiness implied with that smile. But her smile, her cheery voice, the exaggerated way she was rambling – it all felt like an act. At least to a degree. And that concerned him.

_Why would her behavior be changing?_ It made no sense to him. He'd expected her to behave as she always did with everyone else. He'd expected that the only difference would be in relation to him.

As he dropped into his seat, his bag landing with a thud on his desk, another option occurred to him. _Did something else happen?_ He had been careful to avoid her – all of them – on Sunday, for his own sake as much as anything else. But while he'd been hiding away in his room anything could have happened to them. He hadn't sensed any hollows, but he was the first to admit that he wasn't particularly good with spiritual pressure.

His eyes automatically flicked around the room, settling easily on Orihime as she chatted with Tatsuki and another of her friends. From this distance he couldn't hear her words, but he could see her face, and he noted curiously that the differences from earlier were much more subtle now. She looked more at ease.

_Well, that rules out an attack, then,_ he decided as his scowl deepened. If her behavior had been off because of an attack of any kind, it would surely still have shown. But, at the moment, she was almost exactly like her usual self. _So what the hell is it?_

Were this a normal Monday, he would have settled on waiting impatiently for lunchtime, and then pulled her aside at the first opportunity he could find. By the end of lunch he would surely have gotten the answer out of her.

But this wasn't a normal Monday. He couldn't pull her aside and demand to know what was wrong. And without any way to actually talk with her he didn't know how he would ever figure it out.

_Guess I'll have to pick Urahara's brain,_ Ichigo decided reluctantly as he watched her move easily to her seat. He didn't really like that option, but Urahara was, realistically, the only one he could talk to about the situation. _At worst I guess he could have Yoruichi watch her for a few days._ It was the best he could do for the moment, no matter how much he hated it.

Their teacher called the class to order, and Ichigo only pretended to listen, his eyes locked on his desk. At the very least he figured he might as well take advantage of having his teacher forget about him; it made for a perfect opportunity for deep thinking.

* * *

><p><strong>At lunch<strong> Ichigo realized that he didn't know where to go. He'd seen Keigo and Mizuiro heading towards the rooftop – and Chad and Uryuu had even been trailing along, several feet behind them. But should he go up, too? Or should he find a new place to pretend to eat?

_This is stupid,_ he told himself, tightening his grip on his bag and starting toward the stairs. _The roof is big enough for one more person, dammit._ And he knew that if he didn't go up to the roof, he would probably end up semi-stalking Orihime. There was no way that would end well for him if Tatsuki noticed – and she seemed to be more paranoid than usual, too.

Ichigo couldn't help but wonder if Tatsuki's increased paranoia had anything to do with having forgotten him; after all, the two of them had made something of a pact to protect Orihime, and now all of a sudden that burden had fallen entirely onto Tatsuki's shoulders. Or, at least, that was what she was undoubtedly believing.

Dragging in a deep breath, Ichigo shook his head as he reached the door that led to the roof. He needed to figure this out before it drove him insane.

He pushed the door open carefully, instinctively knowing that he'd have his should-be-friends' full attention before he could even see them. _Here we go._

"-believe she said tha-?" Keigo was asking as the door swung open. He cut himself off when he registered what the others were staring at and turned, wide-eyed and curious, to see for himself.

Ichigo stepped through, bag hanging at his side, and let the door swing shut behind him as he surveyed what should have been his group of friends.

Chad was leaning back against the railing, not quite in Ichigo's former spot, legs crossed and lunch box resting in his lap. Uryuu sat beside him, his posture as formal as ever, chopsticks poised in his hand as he frowned suspiciously over at Ichigo. Mizuiro sat on Uryuu's other side, thumb hovering over a button on his phone as he, too, stared up at Ichigo in surprise. And Keigo sat between Mizuiro and Chad, now gaping around at Ichigo, his story entirely forgotten.

"Um, hey there, buddy," Keigo called awkwardly, attempting to offer Ichigo a friendly smile.

It was almost identical to the smile he'd offered Ichigo on their very first day of high school, after he'd realized that Mizuiro had befriended him.

Uryuu's voice was calm, not quite accusatory, as he spoke over Keigo and asked, "Can we help you?"

Ichigo bit back his instinctive retort. It was true that he and the Quincy had built a lot of their friendship around bickering and rivalry, but he wanted to _**try**_ and start on a good note. So, doing his best to relax the tension in his muscles, Ichigo slowly shook his head and replied, "Just looking for somewhere to eat."

Uryuu frowned, seeming to instinctively distrust that response, but said nothing.

Keigo, completely ignoring Uryuu's reaction, said, "But…don't you usually eat…uh, somewhere else?"

Chad silently hung his head even as Mizuiro lowered his phone and rolled his eyes. Then, looking over to Ichigo, Mizuiro said, "Ignore him. You're Ichigo, right? If you don't have anyone to eat with, why not join us? We can make room for you."

Keigo's head whipped around at impressive speed, his eyes wide and horrified, as he cried, "What? Mizuiro! Shouldn't we talk about this first?"

Voice quiet and subtly condescending, Uryuu said, "He can hear you, you know."

Ichigo's first instinct was to refuse the offer, but before he could actually turn it down he thought better of that decision. _I want to get their friendship back, right?_ Well, the logical way to start was to accept an offer he hadn't even been aiming to get. Decision made, he inclined his head and replied, "Sure, thanks."

Keigo immediately began sputtering incoherently, and Chad silently reached out, grasping Keigo's arm to drag him aside.

Mizuiro shifted a little, and all of a sudden there was an open spot. It wasn't the one Ichigo would have preferred, but he was willing to let that go. An opening was an opening, after all.

Ichigo allowed himself to settle into the space casually, crossing his legs and setting his bag on his lap. He would have to at least pick at his lunch or else he was sure Uryuu would call him out later, but he wasn't so stubborn as to have a problem with that.

Seeming to have recovered from his shock, Keigo blurted, "Do you even know who we are?"

Everyone turned wide, disbelieving eyes to the brunette, and for a moment stunned silence hung in the air.

At length, Ichigo replied, "Yeah." He paused, lifting one hand as he prepared to prove himself, and pointed at Keigo as he began, "You're Keigo, Chad, Uryuu, and Mizuiro. We've been in the same class since we started high school."

Another, shorter, gaping silence hung in the air for a moment, and then Keigo burst out laughing.

Before Ichigo could demand to know what was so funny, Chad spoke up calmly. "My name's actually Yasutora Sado."

_Crap,_ Ichigo cursed silently. He'd completely forgotten that Chad wouldn't be used to being called Chad. _Well, that's gonna have to change._

Hoping his moment of almost-panic hadn't shown on his face, Ichigo met Chad's gaze easily and said, "Are you sure? I could've sworn I read 'Chad' on the class listing before."

"I imagine he knows his own name," Uryuu replied pointedly, subconsciously adjusting his glasses.

Ichigo lifted one hand to rub self-consciously at the back of his neck. "Yeah, that didn't come out the way I meant." He returned his eyes to Chad and added, "But I think it suits you anyway. Chad's a cool name."

"So, Ichigo," Mizuiro began, interrupting the conversation with an easy smile as he flipped his phone shut, "why aren't you eating with your usual friends?"

Cursing himself for not having anticipated that question, Ichigo looked away and awkwardly said, "Uh, well…my friends…don't actually go here." It was the closest thing to the truth he could muster. The friends he had left certainly weren't attending their high school, after all.

"Wait, seriously?" Keigo asked in amazement. He shifted, leaning partially toward Ichigo, and asked, "You mean you're a senior and you don't have _**any**_ friends in our class? Or even at this school?"

Hesitating only slightly, Ichigo replied, "I've been accused of being something less than social."

"And yet you're suddenly seeking our company?" Uryuu pushed, the suspicion obvious in his voice.

Recognizing the challenge, Ichigo looked up and met the other man's gaze. "Maybe I've adopted a new policy. Besides, technically I was only looking for a new place to eat. I'd have left you alone if Mizuiro hadn't offered."

"That is true," Mizuiro pointed out casually. "I was the one who broached the subject and invited him to sit with us."

Uryuu's gaze flicked toward Mizuiro, acknowledging his words, before returning to Ichigo's. His suspicion was still evident, but he chose to hold his tongue as he calmly reached out for his chopsticks once more.

Ichigo allowed himself to look away then, and turned to offer a faint smile to Mizuiro as he said, "Thanks, by the way."

Mizuiro returned the smile before letting his eyes fall back to his phone as he replied, "Don't mention it."

* * *

><p><strong>"You're going<strong> straight home, right, Orihime?" Tatsuki asked after class that day. They were gathered near the front gates, and Tatsuki was preparing to head over to the dojo for work. But first she needed to be sure that Orihime was properly set.

Orihime smiled, laughing faintly, and said, "Yes, Tatsuki, I promise! You don't need to worry so much, I can take care of myself!"

Tatsuki sighed, slinging her bag over one shoulder as she said, "I know, Orihime, but I can't help it. I know you know _**how**_ to defend yourself, I'm just afraid you'd hesitate when you needed it."

Waving her hand dismissively, Orihime replied, "Oh, don't worry about that! I know if I hesitated and got myself hurt you'd get mad at me, and you're scary when you're mad, so I'll definitely do my best to avoid that!"

Rolling her eyes, but laughing anyway, Tatsuki said, "Alright, alright, I believe you. Now get going, and I'll see you tomorrow, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Orihime assured her friend, throwing in a teasing wink for good measure before she spun and began running to the gates.

Orihime didn't pause as she rounded the corner, though she turned her head enough to smile once more at her already departing friend. When she turned her head forward again, too late registering the sounds of hushed conversation, she was greeted with the sight of the familiar gray of the school uniform. And then she ran straight into the person beneath it.

Ichigo stumbled, caught off-guard by the impact since he had been distracted by Uryuu's arrival, and only barely managed to catch Orihime's flailing elbow. Both of their school bags hit the ground, dropped and forgotten, as Ichigo helped to steady her back on her feet.

"Oh!" Orihime gasped, her hand reflexively latching onto the forearm of her rescuer. "I'm so sorry!" When her feet were steady beneath her – was he really so strong? – she finally allowed herself to lift her eyes to his face.

Her heart did a strange flip at the sight of his concerned frown and intense brown eyes. She had to swallow, hoping to push past her embarrassment (both over having run into him and her reaction at the sight of him), before she was able to say, "Eh, thank you, Ichigo."

His stomach unclenched and his heart warmed, just a little, when his name slipped from her lips. He hadn't even considered how much he had missed that sound until he'd gone so many hours without it – without even the possibility of hearing it.

Lips tipping up at the corners, Ichigo slowly released her elbow as he replied, "You're welcome, Orihime. Are you alright?"

Something about the way he said those words, and the look in his eyes, had Orihime hesitating unintentionally. For a moment she could have sworn she'd had this exact conversation with him before…possibly more than once. _What a strange thing to have déjà vu over,_ she reflected as she pulled in a breath and smiled sweetly up at him. It took her a moment to notice how easy that smile was.

"Yes," Orihime replied honestly as her arm fell back to her side. "I'm fine. Um…I didn't hurt you, did I? I know I have kind of a hard head…."

Faint smile still curving his lips, Ichigo shook his head and bent down to retrieve her bag. He didn't speak until he was standing again, holding it out for her, and then he said, "Didn't feel a thing."

Another easy smile curved her lips and Orihime gratefully accepted her bag as she said, "Thank goodness!"

Clearing his throat, Uryuu stepped up and asked, "Are you sure you're alright, Orihime? Would you like me to walk you home?"

Orihime turned, belatedly realizing that Uryuu was there, and hoped her guilt didn't show as she quickly assured him, "Oh, I'm fine, really! Don't worry about me, Uryuu!" It was only then it occurred to her that Ichigo and Uryuu had probably been having some kind of conversation, and it would be rude of her to linger.

Wrapping both hands around the straps of her bag, Orihime beamed at them and said, "Anyway, I'm so sorry for interrupting whatever you were talking about! I'll just be on my way! See you both tomorrow!" Even as she spoke, Orihime stepped slightly sideways and started forward, around them. She waved over her shoulder once they were behind her.

"Have a good day, Orihime," Uryuu called after her. He made no move to follow her; he had other business to concern himself with.

Ichigo barely managed to bite back the 'be careful' that he wanted to say, but he allowed himself to think it. _I'm sorry I can't walk you home this time,_ he apologized silently. With a silent vow to fix that as soon as possible, he pulled his attention back to the man beside him.

He still wasn't sure why the Quincy had caught up to him outside of the school, but he couldn't say he was overly surprised. He'd known from the beginning that winning Uryuu over would be, in many ways, a lot harder than the others.

Turning to properly face him, Ichigo bent and easily scooped his own bag off of the ground as he asked, "So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Uryuu's face was serious as he said, "Not here." Without another word of explanation, he turned and began walking in the direction opposite the one Orihime had taken.

His trademark scowl falling easily into place, Ichigo tossed his bag over his shoulder, shoved his free hand into his pocket, and allowed himself to fall into step behind Uryuu. If the other man was going out of his way to pull him aside and separate him from prying eyes, Ichigo knew it wasn't a normal conversation that awaited him.

_Damn,_ he thought as they walked. He had really hoped to avoid the Soul Reaper/Quincy confrontation for a little while. _Urahara's stupid device must not be working._ He glanced reflexively down at the watch on his wrist, reflecting briefly on his early-morning meeting with the older man.

Frankly, Urahara's explanation hadn't made a lot of sense, but Ichigo knew he needed to suppress his spiritual pressure for a while. Especially around Uryuu. There was no way the Quincy would believe he just _**hadn't noticed**_ that one of his classmates was an incredibly powerful Soul Reaper – and that was a confrontation he didn't need just yet.

_Tch, so much for that,_ Ichigo scoffed silently as he kept pace behind his friend.

Uryuu stopped walking once they were beneath the bridge that arched over the river. Then he turned, slipping one hand in his pocket casually and letting his bag hang at his side from his other, as he met Ichigo's curious gaze. "This will do," he declared.

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow, coming to a stop as well. He couldn't ignore the choice of venue, and the location had him wondering if Chad would be showing up soon. After all, it had been beneath this very bridge when he and Chad had officially met so many years before.

But there would be time enough to dwell on that later.

Scowl firmly in place, Ichigo asked the obvious question. "'Do' for what?"

"For the conversation that you and I need to have," Uryuu replied calmly. "You see, the truth is, I didn't believe your story this afternoon. And now I find I don't trust you. But my friends expect you'll be eating with us again tomorrow, so if I'm right about you, I need to know beforehand."

"Paranoid much?" Ichigo returned, having no difficulty keeping calm at Uryuu's words. He'd expected as much, especially after the deliberate isolation.

"There's no harm in being careful about whom you associate with," Uryuu declared.

Schooling his face to reveal only faint irritation, Ichigo asked, "So, what, are you asking me to stay away from your friends? 'Cause, maybe it's just me, but shouldn't that be their decision?"

"Of course it should," Uryuu assured him, his tone indicating that he might have been insulted at the mere suggestion. He reached up with his free hand and adjusted his glasses before he continued. "What I want to know, Ichigo, is what you're hiding."

"Excuse me?" Ichigo asked carefully, narrowing his eyes at Uryuu. _This isn't gonna end well,_ he realized. _If he forces me to reveal myself as a Soul Reaper, we're guaranteed to end up fighting. And without a few dozen hollows and a Menos to distract us, that could be a problem._

"I thought I was pretty clear," Uryuu began, narrowing his own eyes on Ichigo, "what is it that you're hiding, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

Allowing a tendril of his anger to show, Ichigo snapped, "There's a lot of shit that you don't know about me, Uryuu Ishida. You want me to spell it all out for you?"

"Don't play games with me," Uryuu returned. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Maybe I don't," Ichigo challenged. "Maybe you're just suspicious because it occurred to you that you don't know _**shit**_ about me, even though we've been classmates for years. And think about that, will you? Doesn't that alone seem a little suspicious?"

Uryuu's glare hardened warily. "And what is it that you're implying, exactly?"

"I'm not implying anything," Ichigo replied firmly. "I'm _**saying**_ that if you want to wonder about something, wonder about that. Think about how much sense what little you know about me _**doesn't**_ make. You're a smart guy, Uryuu, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Knowing that their conversation needed to end, Ichigo turned as soon as he was finished speaking and began walking away. He kept his free hand fisted in his pocket, fingers wrapped around the loop of his Combat Pass. He didn't fully trust that Uryuu would let him walk away so easily.

Uryuu watched his classmate go in confused, strangely stunned silence.

It was true that, on the surface, Ichigo's argument made no sense. In theory it wouldn't even serve as a decent distraction. But there was something about the look in the other man's eyes when he said those words that made Uryuu pause.

What _**did**_ he know about Ichigo Kurosaki?

* * *

><p><strong>Chad was<strong> approaching the river when Ichigo finished ascending the hillside. Their gazes met and Ichigo pulled his free hand from his pocket in a casual wave.

"Have you seen Uryuu?" Chad asked, never one to prolong a conversation.

Ichigo jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He's down there."

Chad inclined his head, adjusting his course to head in the indicated direction. "Thanks," he said.

Lips curving faintly, Ichigo replied, "No problem. See you tomorrow, Chad."

Chad paused and looked back at Ichigo over his shoulder. "Yasutora."

Without breaking stride, as he slipped his hand back into his pocket, Ichigo called, "Nope, it's Chad. You're just gonna have to get used to it."

He sensed Chad move away, obviously surrendering the argument, at least for the moment. And, as he pointed himself in the direction of his home, Ichigo decided that the day hadn't been all bad.

He'd made at least a little contact with almost all of the friends he needed to get back, and he was sure that that minimal contact was enough to leave an impression. So, in a sense, he had their attention. Now he just needed to do something with it.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Whew, okay, chapter three is done! And, as you can obviously see, things are already underway! But…I'm not going to give you any hints just yet, so if you want to know what happens next, you'll have to go read four! (Although, if you want to detour down to that 'review' button, I promise you won't miss anything! LOL)


	4. Reunion Confusion

_**A/N:**_ Welcome to chapter four! Once again I have to admit that I don't have anything overly important to say, so I won't waste your time with a pointless ramble. Please forgive any minor errors and/or OOCness, and, most importantly: please enjoy!

**Warning:** Minor spoiler(s) for the end of Arrancar Saga. (I don't actually know if that even counts as a spoiler anymore, but, better safe than sorry!) Also: _**Minor**_ spoiler(s) for current manga arc (not actual plot, so much as new detail).

**Disclaimer: **Bleach belongs to someone who is not me. (So sad…).

**Holding On**

**Chapter Four: Reunion Confusion**

** "Wake up,** Ichigo!" Renji's familiar voice called, piercing through the haze of Ichigo's fading dreams.

Ichigo groaned and rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes open and scowling at the sight of his friend's unmistakable red hair. "Renji? What the hell?"

"You're always so articulate in the morning," Rukia teased from somewhere to the right of the bed.

Ichigo's eyes snapped open and he propelled himself into a sitting position as he shifted to face the rest of his room. And, as he'd suspected, his eyes immediately landed on Rukia, who was leaning against his desk with a satisfied smirk on her lips. "When did you get here? What are you doing in my room so early in the morning?"

Renji snickered and stepped off of the foot of Ichigo's bed, moving to stand beside Rukia and crossing his arms in his sleeves as he said, "Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine."

Ichigo shifted, curled his fingers around the edge of his pillow, and then promptly chucked it at the larger Soul Reaper. "Yeah, yeah, good morning. Now what the hell are you two doing here _**so damned early**_?"

"It's not that early," Rukia argued as Renji sputtered and threw the pillow back at Ichigo. With a brief glance at Ichigo's clock, she added, "Your alarm was going to go off in a minute, anyway."

Before Ichigo could even formulate a response her words were proven accurate as his alarm turned on. Loud (and therefore effective) chords of music suddenly blared through the room.

With a heavy frown, Ichigo reached out and slammed his hand onto the device, silencing it. He used the following moment to gather himself, shifting so that his feet were resting on the floor.

"See?" Rukia insisted knowingly.

Releasing a breath, Ichigo said, "Yeah, okay, sorry." He paused, but before he could stop himself he quietly added, "It's good to see you guys."

The words hung in the air for several seconds, with the older Soul Reapers awkwardly looking away from their friend, their own faces contorted with frowns and distant, unfocused eyes.

Lifting his gaze from the floor, Ichigo asked, "How's everyone in Soul Society?"

"The recovery's coming along nicely," Rukia replied, her voice low but even as she managed to return her eyes to Ichigo.

After a beat, Renji met Ichigo's gaze and declared firmly, "Head Captain Yamamoto ordered Captain Kurotsuchi to look into working on a way to reverse the Memory Erosion."

Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that…possible?"

It was Rukia who answered him, her voice tight and strangely formal. "We don't know. But the Head Captain thinks it's worth looking in to."

Ichigo looked away, his eyes landing on his bare feet. "Don't get me wrong," he finally said quietly, "but I'm not gonna sit around and wait for a cure that might not happen."

"What do you mean?" Rukia asked, confused now at his response.

Ichigo's jaw ticked for a moment, and then he pushed to his feet and stepped toward his desk. He avoided their curious gazes as they moved out of his way, watching in silence. And then Ichigo easily tugged open the top drawer of his desk and withdrew a single piece of paper.

Without closing the drawer he turned and held it out to Rukia, still keeping his eyes elsewhere.

Rukia stared at the paper for a beat before carefully taking it from his hand. She ignored Renji as he leaned over her, reading over her shoulder.

Their eyes widened almost simultaneously as they read the note.

Lowering the paper, Rukia looked up at Ichigo and whispered, "Ichigo…you know there's no guarantee that this is even real, right?"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed at the ground, but he said nothing.

Renji's voice was firm as he said pointedly, "Katou could just be toying with you. This could be his way of getting the last laugh."

"I know," Ichigo finally admitted. He lifted his head, then, and plucked the paper from Rukia's loose grip. After returning it to the drawer and sliding the drawer shut, Ichigo turned and faced his friends. "I know all that," he repeated firmly. "But it's all I have right now."

The words hung in the air for another long minute before Renji moved to stand in front of Ichigo. He clamped one hand on Ichigo's shoulder and declared, "Do what you have to. We've got your back."

"And if there's any way we can help," Rukia began, letting her words trail, knowing that Ichigo would fill in the blank appropriately.

Ichigo nodded before finally grumbling, "I have to get ready for school."

Renji stepped back and said, "I'll hang around and help with the hollows for a while."

Rukia nodded, silently echoing Renji's sentiment, and added, "We'll both help with hollows where we can. And in the meanwhile, I have to run and get my gigai from Urahara. It wouldn't do for me to be late to school, after all!"

Ichigo's head snapped in her direction, one hand wrapped around his shirt. "Late for school?" he repeated incredulously.

Rukia grinned before moving to the window. "You know you've missed my company. See you soon!"

* * *

><p><strong>Orihime was<strong> running late. Her cell phone had died during the night, and since she had taken to using it for her alarm clock, she had slept later than she was supposed to. And then it had taken her nearly twenty minutes to find the charger. Still, she had refused to go to school without taking a proper bath, but she had had to forgo breakfast, and now she was regretting both decisions.

_Oh, I wish I could stop for a pastry!_ But she knew better. As it was, if she stopped for anything, she would almost surely be late to class. She hadn't been late to a class since her first year of high school, and she knew she'd be mortified to break that record now. They only had a couple of months left of school before graduation.

Reminding herself of this for the thousandth time, Orihime rounded the final corner between her apartment and the school, and what she saw nearly had her falling on her face as she came to a rapid stop. _It can't be…!_ Her eyes must be deceiving her. And yet, when she focused, her senses confirmed what she was seeing.

There, running toward the school from across the street, was none other than Rukia Kuchiki. She was wearing a gigai, which was dressed in the school uniform, so her destination was obvious.

Excitement overwhelmed her disbelief, and Orihime called, "_**Rukia!**_ Rukia, wait!"

Rukia froze, immediately recognizing the familiar voice, and slowly turned toward the source. _She…recognizes me?_ It made no sense. She knew that Orihime – along with Chad and Uryuu – had forgotten Ichigo. But Orihime still remembered _**her**_? _How is that possible?_

Orihime quickly jogged up to Rukia, an honest, bright smile on her face. "Oh, Rukia, it's so good to see you! But what brings you back to our world?"

Blinking rapidly, Rukia silently prayed that she wouldn't make an ass of herself as she blurted the first thing she could think of. "Oh, I have some time off so I thought I'd check in on old friends! It's good to see you, too, Orihime!"

Excitedly curious, Orihime asked, "Will you be coming to class today? I'm sure Uryuu and Yasutora would be happy to see you as well!"

"Um, yes!" Rukia replied, trying desperately to remember who Yasutora was. _That's Chad's name, isn't it?_ Adding an exaggerated smile, Rukia said, "But we should hurry, or we'll be late!"

Orihime's eyes widened in horror as she gasped, "Oh no! I forgot! Come on, hurry!" Even as she spoke, she reached out and grasped Rukia's wrist. Then she turned and began running toward the entrance of the school with the petite Soul Reaper in tow.

Rukia allowed Orihime to drag her toward the building, all the while trying to figure out what was going on. No matter how she thought about it, she could _**not**_ figure out how or why Orihime remembered her. And obviously Orihime expected Uryuu and Chad to remember her, too.

All she could hope for was to figure it out as the day progressed.

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo blanched<strong> when Orihime burst into the classroom, gasping and dragging an equally-breathless Rukia in behind her. The look of shock on Rukia's face was enough to assure Ichigo that she had no idea what was going on, but it did nothing to pacify his new bout of confusion.

"Sorry we're late!" Orihime cried between breaths, releasing Rukia to cover her stomach with her hand as she tried to regulate her breathing.

Their teacher gave Orihime a stern look and said, "You're not quite late yet, Inoue. Take your seat." Turning to Rukia, she asked, "And you would be?"

Rukia sucked in a breath, quickly composing herself, and offered a polite bow as she said, "Rukia Kuchiki. Sorry to barge in on you like this; I thought you'd be expecting me?"

The teacher blinked, and then her eyes widened. "Oh, right! I'm so sorry, I completely forgot!"

Ichigo watched, a myriad of emotions rolling through him, as Rukia was introduced to the class. A quick glance around confirmed his new suspicions: Uryuu's face portrayed familiarity as he watched. He couldn't see Chad from where he sat, but he figured it was a safe assumption that he remembered Rukia, too. _How the hell does that work?_ None of it made any sense.

Rukia was given an open seat somewhere behind Ichigo, and for the rest of class Ichigo once again threw himself into his thoughts.

Now, on top of trying to re-bond with his friends, he was realizing that he had to worry about what they _**thought **_they remembered. He had completely forgotten that their minds would provide 'reasonable substitutions.'

That would make it even harder to insert himself back into their lives.

* * *

><p><strong>"So, is<strong> that Renji I've been sensing downtown?" Uryuu asked at lunch that day as the trio met up with Rukia beneath an isolated tree in the yard.

"Yes," Rukia replied, having found her composure during the morning. Though she hadn't been able to speak with Ichigo before Orihime had whisked her out of the room at the start of lunch, she was sure he would be alright with her using this opportunity to try and discern what, exactly, they remembered.

Orihime clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her eyes bright as she said, "I'm so glad you were finally able to come visit us! I mean, we completely understood that you were busy and you weren't really supposed to be here in the first place, but still it's nice to see you again! Do you think we can see Renji before you have to go back?"

A sinking feeling beginning to take over her stomach, Rukia slowly nodded, allowing her lips to curve in a smile. "Of course," she replied. "I'm sure Renji would be happy to see you all."

"And how've things been?" Chad asked.

For a moment, Rukia felt a twinge of panic. _How've things been? What if I answer wrong?_

She was spared, however, as Orihime almost immediately jumped in, rambling, "Oh, yes! Are they treating you alright? I know that the Head Captain said they were dropping the charges against you, but did they really? They haven't been making things hard for you, have they?"

Unable to decide if she was glad to know how to answer, or concerned about what Orihime had just revealed, Rukia managed to offer a short laugh as she replied, "Things have been going well. They really did drop the charges. In fact, I've been promoted."

Three pairs of eyes widened and Orihime said, "Really? Congratulations!"

"Yes, congratulations," Uryuu echoed. His lips curved up in the faintest of smiles and he asked, "What rank were you given?"

Smirking now, Rukia replied, "You're looking at the new Lieutenant of Squad Thirteen."

"They promoted you all the way to Lieutenant?" Chad asked, sounding mildly amazed.

"That's great, Rukia!" Orihime added immediately.

"Thank you," Rukia said. It was weird to have this conversation with them a second time – especially since their reactions had been largely the same – but it was also good to see what had and had not changed.

However, her relaxing mood was shattered when Uryuu sobered and quietly asked, "What ever happened with those Captains who defected? Have you captured them?"

Rukia was sure her stomach had fallen clear to her feet with his words. _They remember Aizen's betrayal, but they don't remember the War…?_ The mere idea was baffling.

But she had to be sure, and so she said carefully, "Ah, well, yes, but it wasn't easy. Two of the traitors died in the fighting, and Aizen was eventually defeated and imprisoned."

A somber silence descended on the group for a moment, and, at length, Orihime softly asked, "How did Soul Society fare in the fighting?"

Rukia's response was honestly grave, if not for an entirely different reason, and she looked away as she said, "We managed not to lose any of our Captain-class Soul Reapers, but we took a lot of damage. It was a while before everyone was back on their feet."

"And you're sure it's over?" Chad asked carefully.

"Yes," Rukia assured them. _Well, it's official. They don't seem to have any memory of the war._

* * *

><p><strong>"Help me<strong> out, Orihime," Tatsuki began as they headed towards Orihime's apartment after school. When Orihime turned a curious look to her, Tatsuki continued, "How is it you know that Kuchiki girl?"

Orihime's eyes went wide, and she pulled her lip between her teeth as she briefly debated on how to answer her best friend. _I forgot that Tatsuki wouldn't remember her,_ she reflected. _But, still, Tatsuki knows more than she did back then…so probably it would be okay, right?_

"Orihime?" Tatsuki asked carefully as she watched the other girl determine her answer.

Turning an apologetic smile to Tatsuki, Orihime said, "Why don't you come in and I'll tell you all about it? Do you have the time for that, Tatsuki?"

Tatsuki's eyes shifted forward, and she realized that they were closer to Orihime's apartment than she had thought. A quick glance at her watch confirmed what she was thinking, and the karate champion turned a smile to her friend, saying, "You bet I do."

"Great!" Orihime exclaimed, jogging forward slightly and turning to run backwards as she added, "I've still got some potato-flake and peanut butter cookies, too, if you want them!"

Only her years of practice kept Tatsuki from cringing as she said, "No thanks, Orihime. I'm still full from lunch. And walk forward, for crying out loud!"

With an exaggeratedly-disappointed sigh, Orihime spun around on her heel and said, "Okay, okay!"

They laughed about something that had happened during class until they were settled in Orihime's apartment a couple of minutes later.

Orihime set a glass of water in front of Tatsuki, before setting a glass of homemade iced tea and a couple of cookies in front of her own spot. Then she tucked her legs beneath her and said, "Now, Tatsuki, keep in mind that this was a while ago, okay?"

Tatsuki frowned and lifted a suspicious eyebrow. "That's not an appealing opening."

Orihime laughed self-consciously, waving her hands around to dismiss Tatsuki's negative suspicions. "Oh, I didn't mean it that way! Just that…um, I didn't realize you could see hollows and things…and, well, actually I don't think you could back when it started."

Her face relaxing, Tatsuki looked down at her water glass for a moment and said, "Oh, I see. It's about that stuff, then?"

"Yes," Orihime admitted.

With a sigh, Tatsuki looked up again and said, "Well, alright, so how is that weird stuff connected to Rukia Kuchiki?"

"Well," Orihime began carefully, swallowing to push past her own mixed emotions over the story she was about to tell, "do you remember the night we were attacked at my apartment? In our first year of high school?"

Hesitantly, Tatsuki said, "Yeah…." She knew a little of the story, nearly all of which Orihime had told her later; she remembered very little of the night itself.

But she did know, from Orihime, that they'd been attacked by a hollow. The hollow had been after Orihime, and had turned out to be her dead brother. Orihime had never said much beyond that, other than that she knew her brother was in a better place now. Tatsuki had never asked for more.

"The part I never told you," Orihime continued, "is that I wasn't actually able to do much to stop him. It was actually Rukia who saved me."

Incredulous, Tatsuki interrupted to demand, "How did _**Rukia**_ save you?"

"Eh heh," Orihime laughed, reaching up with one hand to rub the back of her head. "Well, it turns out that Rukia is a Soul Reaper. At the time she was actually trapped in, um…let's call it an artificial body. Anyway, she was stuck in that, and not able to take her actual Soul Reaper form, so it wasn't an easy fight. But she saved me, and then she healed up my injuries."

Tatsuki lifted a hand and rubbed at her temple as she closed her eyes for a long minute. At length, she replied, "So it was Rukia who taught you about hollows and Soul Reapers?"

"Um, sort of?" Orihime hedged awkwardly. Quickly, she added, "Rukia did teach me a little, but I actually learned a lot about it all from Mr. Urahara, and from when I went to Soul Society that one time!"

"So what's Rukia doing at the school?" Tatsuki asked curiously, letting her hand drop and come to rest on the table.

"Oh, she says she's in town for a few days or so," Orihime replied easily. "She's on vacation and so she thought she'd come check in with us."

"And by 'us' you mean you, Uryuu, and Yasutora, right?" Tatsuki asked, recalling that Orihime had travelled with the two men to Soul Society.

Orihime nodded. "Yep," she said. Her eyes brightened and she added, "Oh, and she came back with Renji, too! Maybe I can introduce you to them both!"

It was Tatsuki's turn to hesitate. With one eyebrow raised curiously, she slowly asked, "Renji?"

With another laugh, Orihime explained, "Renji is another Soul Reaper. We befriended him while we were in Soul Society; he's actually the one who physically rescued Rukia. He and Rukia are childhood friends."

"Right, okay," Tatsuki said with a short nod. Adding a partial shrug, she said, "Well, maybe we can work that out. I'd like to meet your friends." She paused, then, before another thought struck her and she couldn't help but ask, "How did Uryuu and Yasutora meet her, though?"

Orihime lifted a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, if I remember right, Yasutora met Rukia shortly after I did…I think his bird was possessed or something like that. Anyway, he and Rukia fought together to save the bird from a nasty hollow."

Tatsuki shook her head slowly. Only in Orihime's crazy world would a _**possessed bird**_ even be possible. "And Uryuu?" she asked after a beat.

Orihime launched straight into the story, clearly more familiar with these details. "Oh, well, Uryuu confronted Rukia about being a Soul Reaper after school one day. In fact, it wasn't long at all before Rukia was dragged back to Soul Society. And he tried challenging her to some sort of competition, but Rukia didn't want to do it – mostly because it would have been wrong, but also partly because she didn't have much of her Soul Reaper power left at that point."

"Wait," Tatsuki interrupted, "why didn't she have her power?"

"Um, when Rukia first came to Karakura Town she was injured by a hollow," Orihime explained, temporarily pursing her lips as she thought back. "She was saved by Mr. Urahara, and that was when she was given the artificial body. It was supposed to help heal her and allow her to rest while she recuperated, but it ended up being a deficient model – or so she thought – and she got stuck in the body. And while she was stuck, it actually started draining her power instead!"

Tatsuki frowned. "That sucks."

Orihime nodded. "Mhmm. In fact, because her power was so depleted, when Soul Society finally caught up to her, they even accused her of transferring her power to a human! That was why she was arrested, and why the three of us went to save her. We knew she was innocent, and Yasutora and I owed her our lives, anyway. Plus, Uryuu wanted revenge against Soul Society, and even though he wouldn't admit it, I knew all along that he was worried about Rukia, too."

Orihime paused only long enough to take another swallow of her drink before she added, "But it turned out that the deficient body was actually a trap by a bad guy that Soul Society didn't realize they had at the time – he manipulated everything, even the hollow that injured her that night. To be honest, that's still a little confusing, but at least it's all been put to rest now."

Tatsuki nodded, opting to agree with the statement. She figured she only actually understood about half of what Orihime had just said, but hopefully it was the half that mattered. "I still can't believe you went through all of that in just a couple of months."

Orihime laughed lightly. "Yeah, sometimes it's a lot to think about! But…I wouldn't have all the friends I have if not for all of that. I wouldn't even have my Shun Shun Rikka. So it was completely worth it!"

Tatsuki allowed a small smile to curve her lips. "That's good at least."

* * *

><p><strong>"Nothing?"<strong> Ichigo asked after Rukia recanted her earlier conversation with the others.

Rukia slowly shook her head. "They barely even remembered Aizen's name."

Ichigo drew in a deep breath, letting his head fall back as he stared up at the sky.

The sun was setting now, and the sky was still alight with different colors. He felt like he could only see them through a screen – like he was watching it on television. The breeze lifted and danced through his hair, playing with the loose sleeves of his shihakushou, but that, too, felt distant.

Renji, standing beside Rukia and opposite Ichigo on the rooftop, exchanged a knowing look with his long-time friend before looking forward again and carefully asking, "Have you tried just approaching them and telling them that they've lost their memories? They're reasonable people, if you explain the situation they might be willing to work with you."

"Renji," Rukia cautioned softly.

Before she could say another word, Ichigo returned his focus to them and met Renji's gaze. Scowl deepening, he said, "I thought about it. But that would probably just blow up in my face. _**If**_ any of them believed me, things would still be awkward and forced. Not that it matters, because probably they wouldn't. And then I'd _**never**_ be able to get close to them."

Renji heaved a sigh and planted his hands on his hips. "Yeah, you're probably right. It was a stupid idea."

Ichigo turned and stepped towards the edge of the roof, putting his back to his two remaining friends. The wind increased, whipping at his loose clothing, the tips of his hair, and the strap around Zangetsu's hilt.

Voice tight but firm, Ichigo said, "While you're here, there's a favor I need to ask of you both."

Exchanging another silent look with Renji, Rukia slowly asked, "What is it, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's hands curled into fists at his sides, but his voice remained steady when he spoke again. "They still remember you. They still trust you. They won't question it if you show up to fight alongside them or protect them. I'll do what I can from a distance, but we all know it won't be that easy. If you could…just watch their backs for me."

Both Renji and Rukia averted their gazes from the sight of their friend, standing against the increasing wind, and found themselves staring at the concrete beneath their feet.

"We will, Ichigo," Renji promised after several seconds.

Ichigo lifted his head again, this time closing his eyes and attempting to focus on the wind as it moved across his face. He tried to feel its caress, to breathe in the fresh, crisp air.

But the air tasted stale and the only thing he felt was the weight in his stomach.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Wow…this chapter was strangely hard to write…but hopefully it was easy to read! And I hope I didn't get too confusing, either! I was trying to show in more detail how the memory-loss is actually affecting them (*cough*Orihime*cough*) – so hopefully that came out alright! LOL Anyway, please take a moment to send me a review letting me know what's working, what isn't, or just what you're thinking! And come back soon for chapter five!


	5. Slow and Steady

_**A/N:**_ Hello, and welcome to chapter five! I know you're all eager to see what happens next, so I won't take too much of your time here, either! As usual, please forgive the little things, and, as always, please enjoy this installment!

**Disclaimer:** I just checked the mail and, no, I still do not own Bleach.

**Holding On**

**Chapter Five: Slow & Steady**

** It was** early Thursday evening, and Orihime had decided to go to the river to watch the sunset. It was one of her favorite views in the city, and at this time of day it was usually oddly deserted, which suited her fine. Sometimes it was nice to watch the world change in peace.

So she surprised herself when, after noticing that there was someone already standing at the ledge to the river, she realized that she wasn't disappointed. In fact, after taking a moment to be sure she recognized him, Orihime found that she was actually more curious about his presence than anything else. Still, she paused a moment, several feet to the side, and studied him.

Ichigo was standing right on the edge of the small hillside, his hands in his jeans pockets and his face turned up, slightly, toward the sky. His eyes were open and narrowed just a bit in thought. The faint breeze was ruffling his hair just slightly, but it wasn't enough to dance with the open collar of his dark blue jacket.

Orihime swallowed, averting her gaze and hoping to push back her faint blush when she realized she'd been staring. Something about the sight of him was doing funny things to her heart.

She took a deep breath, clasped her hands together behind her back, and slipped a smile onto her face before quietly calling out, "Hi, Ichigo."

Ichigo's eyes widened marginally and he quickly turned to the side to face her. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't even sensed her approach. His expression softened as he met her gaze and he said, "Hey, Orihime."

Orihime took a couple of cautious steps forward, bringing her to a more comfortable distance from him, before asking, "What brings you out here?"

"I, uh, just came to watch the sunset," Ichigo admitted, his eyes breaking from hers to glance back up at the sky. The first colors of the sunset were breaking through.

"Really?" Orihime asked rhetorically, her own gaze switching to the sky. With a faint giggle she added, "That's why I came out here, too. It's so beautiful this time of day."

Ichigo's eyes returned to Orihime reflexively, and as they both turned to face the river, her eyes transfixed on the sky and his transfixed on her, he said, "Yeah."

The breeze kicked up for a moment, blowing her hair out behind her, and Orihime let her eyes drift closed as she took a deep, refreshing breath. Something about the moment seemed to speak to her very soul. And she had a sneaking suspicion that that was as much due to the atmosphere as to the man standing beside her.

His fingers itched to touch her as Ichigo watched the small, honest smile grace her features. Her hair was blowing against her face lightly, and the setting sunlight reflected off of her hairpins, which were secured to the collar of her off-the-shoulder sweater. She looked so calm and relaxed that, for a moment, he could almost forget that she barely knew him.

When her eyes slowly fluttered open Ichigo quickly returned his gaze to the sky, not wanting to get caught staring. The last thing he wanted to do – especially now – was make her uncomfortable around him. He needed her as close as she was willing to be.

Orihime snuck a sideways glance up at Ichigo, finding him watching the sky with a strangely forlorn expression. His lips were curved in a natural frown, but there was something heavy about it this time. He almost looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, or like his heart had been shattered.

Her own throat swelled up for a moment at the thought, and Orihime looked away. She had no reason to feel so concerned about him, but the idea of that kind of sadness made her own heart clench and ache for his sake. _I wonder if I can help…even if it's just a little._

"Say, Ichigo," Orihime began, not sure of what was about to pour out of her mouth but knowing that she wanted to do something for him. Before he could actually respond, she turned her smile to him again and continued, "Have you had dinner yet? I was thinking about making myself some rice curry, but I always make too much for just me, and it doesn't keep well for very long and I won't be home for dinner tomorrow, so a lot of it would just be going to waste anyway. And besides, who doesn't like sharing a meal with someone else?"

He couldn't help but smile, just a little, at her rambling offer. She always rambled when she was nervous. And though he had no idea what had really prompted the invitation, he wasn't about to turn it down. What did it matter if he'd had rice curry for dinner the night before?

"I suppose I could help you with that," he replied. "If you're sure you want me around that long."

Orihime's smile brightened and she nodded. "Of course!" She turned back to face the fading sunset and added, "But we can't go until all the colors are gone."

Ichigo turned back toward the sunset as well, this time allowing himself to actually look at it. He'd missed most of it, distracted as he was by the woman beside him, but he could tell it had been a good one.

* * *

><p><strong>"Just make<strong> yourself comfortable," Orihime instructed as she guided her guest to the living room. "I'll be right back; I'm just going to get the curry started real quick!"

Ichigo nodded, hoping he didn't seem unnaturally nervous. "Alright. Are you sure you don't want any help?"

Orihime looked at him with wide eyes for a beat, before rapidly shaking her head. "Oh, no, I'm sure! Would you like any cookies while you're waiting?"

Knowing better than to fall for that trap, Ichigo calmly shook his head. "No thanks. Don't wanna spoil my dinner appetite."

Laughing softly, Orihime said, "Good point! Okay, I promise I'll be right back! Oh, and the bathroom's down that hall if you need it!" And then she spun around and disappeared into her partially-separated kitchen.

Ichigo watched until she was out of sight before finally releasing an almost-silent sigh. It would be interesting spending the next couple of hours alone with Orihime. He had always had…_**difficulties**_ spending too much time alone with her, and on that end, he was sure this would be no different.

_But it is different,_ he reminded himself as he moved into the living room and settled himself at her small table. He deliberately claimed the spot he always claimed as he prepared to wait for her return.

His eyes flicked to the entry of the kitchen and he swallowed heavily. _This isn't just being alone with Orihime. This is being alone with Orihime, who doesn't really know me, and who doesn't quite consider me a friend._

_**"****Translation,"**_ his hollow piped up suddenly, voice frustrated, _**"you have even **_less_** of a chance of getting laid tonight than usual."**_

Ichigo grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut as he shoved his hollow back and snapped, _"Shut the fuck up before I go in there and cut out your tongue!"_

_**"****Ha, like you could, King,"**_ the hollow retorted with a bitter laugh. Still, he said no more as he allowed himself to fade back.

Trying not to let his internal frustration show, Ichigo pried his eyes open and opted not to retort to his hollow's final taunt.

"I'm back!" Orihime declared with a smile in her voice as she bounced into the room. She moved easily to her usual seat, not giving a single thought to how close she would be sitting to Ichigo until she was already settling. Pushing her sudden embarrassment as far to the side as she could, Orihime said, "Sorry I took so long!"

Ichigo easily shook his head, his expression softening again as he said, "You didn't take long at all."

She smiled openly, folding her hands in her lap automatically. "Thank you for agreeing to eat with me," she said.

His lips twitched at the corners and he replied, "No, thank _**you**_ for the offer."

Laughing self-consciously, Orihime said, "Well, you're welcome!" She paused, threading her fingers together in an effort to keep from fidgeting, and asked, "I'm not going to get you in trouble or something, am I?"

Arching a brow at her question, Ichigo asked, "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, well, I mean isn't your family expecting you for dinner?" Orihime quickly elaborated, rolling her hands around in her lap.

With the faintest of chuckles, Ichigo replied, "Not anymore. I texted my sister to let her know not to expect me." That much was true; he'd done it while they had been walking to the apartment. He had just left out the 'why'.

"Oh," Orihime said. She remembered him texting someone earlier, but she had deliberately distracted herself before she could give it much thought. With a new smile, she added, "Good."

There was a beat of silence, and then Orihime asked, "So are you excited about graduation?"

Ichigo hesitated, honestly unsure of his answer. He dropped her gaze and flexed the loose fist that was curled on her table before he said, "Probably not as much as I should be. But I'll be glad to put high school behind me."

Orihime's head tilted to the side and she asked, "Why aren't you excited about graduation? Are you nervous about college?"

Feeling strangely embarrassed, Ichigo said, "Ah, no, not exactly." He paused, shifted his weight, and allowed himself to look back into her eyes again as he admitted, "The truth is, I haven't actually figured out where I'm going. Every time I sit down to think about it, it feels like something else pops up and distracts me."

Orihime laughed softly and nodded, her nervously-tangling fingers loosening in her lap. "I can understand that. In fact, I'm sure I'd have that same problem if I actually had any real options!"

Suddenly curious (this was actually a conversation they hadn't had before), Ichigo frowned and asked, "What do you mean you don't have options? Aren't you, like, third in the class?"

Orihime flushed self-consciously and looked away. She hadn't meant to let that slip, but she certainly wouldn't lie about it now. "Um, well, yes, I am. And I've had a few offers, but…none that I can afford. I think, if I budget right, I can afford to go to the local college on the outskirts of Karakura, so that's what I'm going to do."

In hindsight, he wasn't surprised by her answer. Still, he was glad she wasn't looking at him, because he was sure his surge of indignant frustration would have confused her.

Once his expression was back under control, Ichigo said, "I hear the local college is pretty good, though, so that's nothing to feel bad about."

Orihime lifted her eyes back to his and smiled softly at him. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "In fact, that's one of the schools I've been debating between."

"Really? What other schools are you considering?" Orihime asked curiously.

"Uh, well I was thinking about Tokyo," Ichigo said. "But I don't really _**want**_ to go that far, so I'm sort of leaning toward staying local." _Especially if you've ruled out Tokyo,_ he added silently.

And that was the real truth of it; he hadn't settled on a specific college because he didn't want to be so far from Orihime. They had already known that Tatsuki would be going farther away, and therefore not be able to stay close to Orihime. When Ichigo had learned about that, he had decided immediately to stay as close as possible. And though he and Tatsuki had actually already had that conversation, he had never figured out how to bring it up with Orihime herself.

Orihime smiled brightly and clapped her hands together as she laughingly exclaimed, "We could both go to the local college! And then we'll know at least _**one**_ person, and we'll have home-field advantage!"

Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle at her words. "That school won't know what hit it," he agreed.

"Exactly!" Orihime declared, still laughing and now pumping the air with one fist. She opened her mouth to say more, but was interrupted by the ringing of a timer from the kitchen.

Turning a curious gaze toward the kitchen, Ichigo asked, "Is it done already?"

Orihime pushed to her feet as she said, "Oh, no. That was just to tell me to get the rice started. I actually made the curry sauce earlier, because I wasn't sure how much time I'd have to prepare it later, you know? I'll just get the rice started real fast; be right back!"

Ichigo made no effort to wipe the faint smile from his face until she was out of sight, hidden once again in her kitchen.

He shifted, then, and released another quiet sigh as he leaned back and splayed his palms across her floor. His head fell back, his eyes fell closed, and Ichigo allowed himself to take a deep breath and focus on nothing but the feel of Orihime's spiritual pressure. As always, it was warm, comforting, and relaxing.

With his eyes closed he could visualize it, surrounding her in a vibrant, glowing gold that exactly matched her powers. It trailed in her wake as she moved around in her kitchen, lingering over everything that she touched.

Focused as he was, Ichigo didn't realize that his muscles had begun relaxing until his arms nearly gave out on him. Barely biting back a curse, Ichigo threw his weight forward enough to keep himself from falling unceremoniously.

_Damn,_ he thought, lifting one hand and dragging it down his face. Orihime's spiritual pressure had relaxed him _**too**_ much and subsequently reminded his body that he hadn't been sleeping well. Now he was tired, and all he wanted to do was move to her couch and let his head fall back against a pillow.

"Okay," Orihime began as she bustled back into the room, unknowingly pulling him back to reality. "Dinner should be ready soon, I promise!"

Ichigo readjusted until he was once again sitting cross legged, and he lifted his eyes to hers as she sat back down beside him. "That's fine," he assured her.

Orihime's eyes lit up almost as soon as she was settled and she sucked in an excited breath, saying, "Hey, do you think-?" She cut herself off, clearly realizing what she was about to ask, and her face flamed even as she immediately began waving her hands. "No, no, never mind!"

Curious, and mildly amused, Ichigo felt his lips twitch as he asked, "Do I think what?"

"Eh, no, it would really be too rude of me!" Orihime insisted. Her hands finally settled back in her lap, but her fingers were still dancing along her thighs.

"Tch," Ichigo scoffed, deliberately throwing a faint teasing quality into his voice as he pushed, "Something tells me you couldn't be rude if you tried. So hit me."

"U-um…" Orihime began, dragging the word out as she took in a breath to steady her nerves. She really wasn't sure where the idea had come from, but, despite her protests, she still wasn't opposed to it. _And he is asking…._

She looked away, fiddling with her skirt as she asked, "Y-you know that big project that we have to start working on next month?"

Ichigo easily recalled the project she was referring to. The class had been given a month to finish their outstanding projects and find a partner for the new one, but with one catch: the new partner had to be of the opposite gender. No one really knew why, as no one actually knew what the final project would entail. They had a little over a week left before they had to have their new partner, and Ichigo had been fully intending to ask Orihime to work with him.

He hadn't given any thought to the project since she – and the others – had forgotten him.

Halting his thoughts before they went off-topic, Ichigo inclined his head. "Yeah," he said. "What about it?"

"W-well," Orihime began, her fingers fisting the fabric over her thighs, "do you…have a partner yet?"

_Is she…?_ For a moment, Ichigo was speechless at the possibility that Orihime – without any active bond with him – would _**ask him**_ to work with her. But he swallowed and gave himself a mental headshake, knowing better than to shirk the opportunity. "No," he said honestly.

Orihime dragged in another deep breath and blurted, "Would you be mine?" There was barely a pause before her eyes bulged and she immediately added, "My partner I mean! For the project!" She clamped her eyes and lips shut for a long minute, her face scrunched in embarrassment, before she finally murmured, "I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. And of course I underst-"

Ichigo's deep, soft chuckle interrupted her, and Orihime blinked her eyes open and dared to lift her gaze to his. His expression matched the sound that shouldn't-have-been-strange that was coming from him.

"Sure," he said easily, his brown eyes still full of amusement. "I'd be happy to, Orihime. Thanks."

Her embarrassment fell away and she offered him a smile. After a moment her smile grew, taking on a laughing edge, and she exclaimed, "I bet, whatever it is, that our project will be the best in the class!"

"Absolutely," Ichigo agreed with a grin.

Orihime laughed faintly, lifting one hand to rub the back of her head, when she realized what she'd forgotten. Her eyes popped open again as she cried, "Ah! The dishes!" And then she jumped to her feet, darting for the kitchen in a rush.

Ichigo started at her sudden outcry, watching her run out of the room with wide, laughing eyes. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" he called after her.

"I'm sure! You stay right there!" Orihime called back.

Ichigo refrained from ignoring her wishes, telling himself he would help anyway next time (assuming there was a next time), and kept himself planted in the living room. He listened as she moved around, pulling dishes from cabinets and drawers. A rush of water indicated that she'd drained the rice, and he knew she would be bringing food with her when she returned.

He tried to keep focused on the present, and not to worry so much about situation at hand, while he waited.

But, fortunately, he didn't have to wait very long.

"Dinner is ready!" Orihime declared as she swept back into the room. A large tray was braced over her hands, held in front of her, and two heaping plates of steaming curry were resting on the tray, alongside two equally-steamy cups of tea.

"Here you go," Orihime said as she set a plate before him. She followed it quickly with one of the mugs of tea, adding, "I hope tea is alright, but if you want something else, I'd be happy to get it for you."

"Tea's fine," Ichigo assured her.

Orihime settled back in her own spot a minute later, the tray discarded at the unoccupied end of the table.

Conversation slowed as they began eating, and after taking his first hesitant bite of the curry, Ichigo was glad to honestly be able to say, "This is delicious, Orihime."

The gentle healer beamed up at him with the compliment, her own forkful hovering in the air between her plate and her mouth. "I'm glad you like it!"

He paused to grin at her before returning his attention to the meal before him. He intended to eat slowly, in order to savor the food, but more importantly, to savor the time with Orihime.

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo laid<strong> back on his bed that night, arms crossed behind his head and staring unseeingly at his ceiling as he reflected on his evening. He'd be lying if he called it anything other than 'good.' Sure, he would by far have preferred to share a dinner with the Orihime who knew him, but he had enjoyed the experience anyway.

There had even been moments, fleeting ones, where, when he'd looked at her, it hadn't been so hard to look into her eyes. Moments where he had almost been able to forget that, to her, he was practically a stranger. Of course, when he thought about it that way, he wanted to curse for an entirely different reason.

_She can be way too trusting sometimes,_ he reflected. But there was no denying that it had worked in his favor this time.

He sighed and rolled onto his side. He could lay awake thinking about everything – or just about Orihime – all night, but there was one other thing he'd realized while he'd been at her apartment. He really hadn't been sleeping well lately.

_It won't hurt the situation if I actually try to sleep tonight,_ he told himself. And it was true. So he let his eyes close and did his best to let his muscles relax.

And then the memories started.

_He was frustrated, mostly at himself, as he ran across the rooftops as fast as his feet could carry him. Now that Rukia had explained it, it seemed so obvious. Of course a hollow would go after any surviving loved ones. And, now that he had failed to defeat the one that had attacked him, Orihime was in danger. He was such an idiot._

_But then he was there, and it didn't matter. It didn't matter because the hollow – who had once been Orihime's older brother – was attacking her. Tatsuki was on the floor, off to the side, clearly unconscious, and Orihime was backed up to an adjacent wall, bracing for the inevitable. But it _**wasn't**_ inevitable, not if Ichigo had anything to say about it._

_Everything was a blur after that, up until Orihime threw herself in between him and the hollow of her brother. His heart tripped when he realized that the hollow's massive jaws were wrapped around Orihime's torso, and she was bleeding. Bleeding for him. Bleeding _**because**_ of him._

The dream – the memory – shifted then, until Ichigo was standing in another familiar scene.

And then another.

Memory after memory flooded his mind, one at a time, in chronological order. Nearly every moment with (or about) her that had ever left an impression on him. Some would probably be considered inconsequential by anyone else, and others were so glaringly obvious that he sometimes wondered if maybe she did feel the same way.

He re-lived it all, largely in fast-forward, right up until the look she had given him just before he'd run off to fight Katou. And when the door shut behind her his entire field of vision faded to black.

_"Ichigo."_ The calm, deep voice echoed through the blackness.

_**"****This won't do, King."**_

_"Ichigo."_

Ichigo groaned and rolled onto his stomach slowly, in order to push to his knees. He paused, palms braced against the unusually slick surface of the building, and waited for his senses to adjust. It didn't take him long to realize that he was soaked, and there was a chill to the water that penetrated to the marrow of his bones.

He lifted his head, then, and looked around. It was hard to see through the rain. If 'rain' was even the right word for the deluge that greeted him as he looked around at his internal world.

The sky was covered in dark, nearly black clouds, and those clouds were releasing a constant downpour of icy rain. Rain that was so heavy that he had to squint to see more than a few feet ahead of himself.

"Ichigo," Zangetsu called again, closer this time.

Ichigo pushed all the way to his feet and turned to his left, where Zangetsu's voice had come from, but he still couldn't see the ancient spirit. "Zangetsu? I can't see you!"

**"Obviously,"** his hollow snapped. His voice was a bit closer than Zangetsu's had been, but it was coming from the same direction.

Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo called out, "What's going on? Why did you bring me here?"

"Look around you, Ichigo," Zangetsu instructed from his invisible post somewhere ahead of Ichigo.

Ichigo sighed. "I know what you're getting at," he said. "But I can only do so much."

**"That's an excuse!"** Hollow Ichigo declared, frustrated and bitter. **"You're **_afraid_** to fix things and you know it! You're afraid of what could happen next if you get them back!"**

Angry now, Ichigo's fists curled at his sides and he snapped, "I am not! I _**want**_ them back, dammit! The only thing I'm afraid of is what will happen to me _**without**_ them!"

**"So you admit you're scared?"** his hollow taunted, sounding almost smug now.

Ichigo hesitated. That was what he had just admitted, though that hadn't been his intention.

"Listen to me, Ichigo," Zangetsu cut in again. It didn't sound as though he'd moved any closer. "I know that you are frightened, but you must persevere. You must continue to fight."

"I know that!" Ichigo interrupted impatiently.

Zangetsu's voice remained calm as he continued, speaking as though he hadn't been interrupted. "I'm sure you've noticed the chill of the rain that falls in this world now. Nothing can withstand that cold for long, Ichigo. Your heart is no exception."

Again, Ichigo hesitated. His fists relaxed and he asked carefully, "What do you mean?"

**"Tch,"** the hollow scoffed, interrupting Zangetsu's would-be explanation. **"He means that if things keep up like this for too long we'll all **_die_**. Do you understand that, King? This shit is going to kill you, and if you die, so do we!"**

"We are with you, Ichigo," Zangetsu added, his voice beginning to fade. "Do what you must, and know that we are beside you. Always."

As his final words reached Ichigo's ears, the last of the light faded away, and once again Ichigo was left standing in empty nothingness. This time, however, he was left with his hollow's and Zangetsu's words running through his head, and a bone-deep chill covering his body.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Would you believe that's not where I thought that conversation would go? But I like it better, so I'm keeping it! LOL Anyway, there's the end of chapter five, and I do hope you enjoyed it! And, yes, I promise we'll be working on progress very soon, so don't you worry! But, first, if you could be so kind as to drop me a little review? And then, you know, go push that 'next' button!


	6. Of Soul Reapers and Quincies

_**A/N:**_ Now, I know you're all eager to read the chapter, but let me just really quickly say: hello! Oh, and, uh, just FYI, I think we're about at the half-way point already. I know that might seem quick, but I never intended for this to be super-long. Anyway, that said, I hope you enjoy this installment!

**Disclaimer:** I've come to the conclusion that I will never own Bleach…what I don't understand is why anyone would ever think otherwise?

**Holding On**

**Chapter Six: Of Soul Reapers and Quincies**

** "I'm so** sad that you have to go back to Soul Society tonight!" Orihime declared as she and Rukia walked to school the following morning.

Rukia's frown was sincere as she nodded and said, "Yeah, me, too. I'd been hoping we could stay longer, but some things have come up and our vacation's getting cut short."

Orihime's lips turned down in a concerned frown of her own. "I understand. But promise to let us know if there's any way we can help? I'd be happy to help Captain Unohana tend the wounded if it comes to that."

Releasing a frustrated breath, Rukia managed a reassuring smile as she looked up at Orihime. "Don't worry about us, Orihime, we know how to handle ourselves. I'm sure they're over-exaggerating, anyway. And hopefully it won't be so long before Renji and I are able to come back for another visit."

"That would be great!" Orihime agreed with a smile of her own.

The girls rounded the corner a beat later, and before Rukia could say anything else, Orihime's eyes had locked on to a figure ahead of them. Rukia's eyes widened in surprise as Orihime called out to him.

"Ichigo! Good morning!"

Ichigo froze for a moment, caught off-guard by the familiar (though unexpected) greeting. But he gathered himself quickly and turned around, what he hoped passed for a casual semi-smile curving his lips. "Morning, Orihime," he replied. He deliberately ignored Rukia's shocked expression.

Orihime came to a stop when she was standing before him, and therefore Rukia came to a stop as well. With an easy smile, Orihime asked, "Oh, have you actually met Rukia?"

"Uh, no, not really," Ichigo replied awkwardly. He absolutely hated having to lie to her, even about the most ridiculous things.

"Ah, well, let's fix that!" Orihime insisted. Then, gesturing between them, she said, "Rukia, this is Ichigo; Ichigo, meet Rukia!"

The Soul Reapers exchanged awkward greetings and then Rukia turned her attention to Orihime. "I'm, um, going to go find the guys. See you in class?"

Orihime nodded. "Sure."

Rukia left without another word, though as soon as she could she ducked behind a tree to watch the pair interact. She hadn't been able to talk to Ichigo the night before, but she remembered sensing his suppressed spiritual pressure lingering around Orihime. And now she was curious to see what might have changed.

"I didn't mean to chase her off," Ichigo stated, secretly enjoying the opportunity to needle Rukia when she was unable to retaliate. _It's what she gets for spying._

Orihime waved one hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm sure that had nothing to do with you, don't worry!" She hesitated, then, her hand returning to the strap of her bag as she asked, "So, um, you didn't get into any trouble, right? I mean, you didn't get home too late or something?"

Ichigo shifted his weight and stepped slightly to the side, indicating that they should walk and talk simultaneously. "I told you not to worry about that, didn't I?" He didn't try to stop the faint grin as he added, "No, I didn't get into trouble."

"Good!" Orihime chirped as she walked beside him casually.

They had barely made it into the actual building when they were joined by Uryuu, who made a point of interrupting their budding conversation as he said, "Good morning, Orihime."

Ichigo raised a silent eyebrow. He knew Uryuu well enough to know the other man had snubbed him on purpose.

"Oh, good morning, Uryuu," Orihime greeted sweetly. Her head tilted slightly to the side and she asked, "Did Rukia catch up with you?"

Faint curiosity settled on Uryuu's face and he slowly shook his head. "No, I haven't seen her yet today." He paused, eventually deciding that he could talk to Rukia at lunch if he had to, and kept his gaze on Orihime as he said, "Tatsuki's looking for you."

Orihime's eyes widened slightly and she sucked in a breath. "Oh, I must have forgotten to meet her!" Turning an apologetic smile up to Ichigo, she added, "I'm sorry, I'd better go find Tatsuki before she starts to worry. I'll see you in class!" And then she was off, jogging down the hall in search of her best friend.

Neither man moved or spoke until Orihime had rounded the corner and gone out of sight.

Then Uryuu shifted, putting his back almost entirely to Ichigo, and said, "We need to have another discussion after school."

Ichigo's scowl slipped easily back into place. _He's too damned persistent for his own good._ "Didn't we already do that?"

Disregarding Ichigo's pointed question, Uryuu said, "Meet me at the Karakura River."

Ichigo watched, frustrated, as Uryuu walked away without another word or a backward glance. He doubted he'd be able to get out of this upcoming conversation as easily as he'd gotten out of the last one. _So much for hoping today wouldn't suck,_ he groaned silently.

A voice from beside him pulled him out of his musings as Rukia quietly asked, "What was all that about?"

"Damned if I know," Ichigo replied. "He's got something up his ass again."

Rukia sighed and planted her foot into the back of Ichigo's shin. "You idiot! I meant with Orihime!"

Ichigo stumbled half a foot forward, cursing, and spun around to glare at the petite woman. "What the hell did you kick me for?" Composing himself, Ichigo straightened and added, "Don't get all bent out of shape, alright? I'd have told you if I'd seen you last night. I ran into Orihime at the river and she invited me over for dinner."

Rukia's eyes went wide. After a long moment, she said, "Well, that's a good step, right?" She paused, and her lips curved into a slow, knowing grin before she asked, "And how was dinner?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned to continue down the hall. He didn't want to earn his teacher's attention by being late. "It is. And dinner was good."

Trailing just slightly behind him, Rukia smirked and asked, "How good?"

"Oi, shut up, midget," Ichigo returned, unable to put the venom usually required into those words. He did his best to ignore the resulting laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Against his<strong> better judgment, Ichigo headed straight for the river after school. Rukia and Renji were spending the afternoon with Orihime and Chad respectively, hoping to get a little more information out of them before they had to return to Soul Society.

_At least I know Uryuu won't be double-teaming me with Chad,_ Ichigo reflected as he came to a stop at the edge of the hillside. He was standing almost exactly where he'd been standing the night before, when Orihime had found him. But this time he knew there would be no good surprise visit.

"I'm glad to see you had the sense to show up," Uryuu declared as he came to a stop on the hillside, several feet over from Ichigo.

Ichigo's scowl deepened and he turned to look over at the other man as he demanded, "Why'd you call me out here, Uryuu?"

Uryuu turned to face Ichigo calmly, his arms loose at his sides. "I'm sure you remember the conversation we had on Monday. And, in the interest of being fair, I did what you suggested and thought over what knowledge I have of you."

He paused, adjusted his glasses, and re-opened his eyes in order to level a calculating glare at Ichigo. "Unfortunately, none of that information assuaged my suspicions. And you're still hiding something."

Ichigo sighed and let his arm, and his school bag, hang at his side casually. "So you called me out here to demand my life story, is that it?"

"No," Uryuu replied curtly. "I merely want to know what your secret is. You seem insistent on making my friends yours, and I need to know what sort of danger they might be in."

Ichigo made no effort to stop the glare that narrowed his eyes. His fist tightened over the strap of his school bag and he said, "Don't make this all out to be about you. Did you ever consider that maybe I just want to be _**friends **_with them? I'm not some murderer, I'm not going to hurt any of them. Hell, I don't even intend to hurt _**you**_, and you're pissing me off."

Uryuu looked less than pacified by Ichigo's response. "You've never before shown an interest in any of them. So what could possibly have changed?"

"Are you sure about that?" Ichigo challenged immediately, stubbornly holding Uryuu's glare. "Are you _**sure**_ I've never 'shown an interest' in them before?"

"Like I said," Uryuu began, his eyes narrowing a bit more. "I thought about it, and I have never seen nor heard of a single moment where you so much as spoke to one of them."

_Of course not,_ Ichigo growled in his mind. He needed to take a deep breath and walk away from the conversation. He'd known Uryuu would be deliberately harsh and provoking when they talked; Uryuu wanted to make him lose his temper. And he knew that he shouldn't be letting himself get so worked up over the words the Quincy was saying.

But he couldn't walk away this time. And he was already upset over the situation, so whether Uryuu's words were really responsible or not, it didn't matter. His temper was already near the boiling point.

"It doesn't matter," Ichigo finally said, doing his best to keep his anger from seeping further into his voice. "You'll learn what you need to know when you need to know it. In the meantime, stop looking at life like some big conspiracy."

Ichigo turned then, fully intending to walk away despite knowing that it would damage his chances at rebuilding his friendship with Uryuu. _If I stay, and we argue – or fight – those chances will be pretty much destroyed anyway._

"I won't let you just walk away this time," Uryuu called after him, his voice as calm as ever. "That was no kind of answer, and you know it."

_Punching him won't actually make me feel better,_ Ichigo told himself as he took another step away from Uryuu. But it was so tempting.

Uryuu opened his mouth to say something else, but before the first syllable could slip free a familiar sensation washed over him. His eyes widened immediately and he turned his head to try and pinpoint its source. _A hollow!_

Ichigo froze as well when the spiritual pressure of the oncoming hollow hit him. _It's coming here,_ he realized. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling in an effort to get a better idea of what to expect. Was it weak enough that he could feign ignorance?

A moment later both men realized that ignoring the problem would not be an option. There wasn't just one hollow nearby; there were several. And they were spread out across the town. Two seemed to be heading straight for them, two were near Chad and Renji's location, and two more were nearing Rukia and Orihime.

_What the hell?_ Ichigo wondered, his body tensing for the inevitable. His first instinct was to slaughter the two that were nearly on top of them, and then race over to Orihime and Rukia in order to slaughter those two as well. In fact, that was exactly what he would have done, had the situation been different.

Instead, he had to take a deep, slow breath and remind himself that Rukia and Orihime were perfectly capable of handling the hollows. There might have been two of them, but they felt like only average hollows. The girls would be fine.

The air around them changed, thickening and weighing them down as the two nearest hollows finally materialized. They appeared on either side of Uryuu and Ichigo, blocking Ichigo's path and cutting off the easiest route of escape.

Uryuu took a reflexive step towards Ichigo, putting a bit more of a distance between himself and the hollow that had appeared directly behind him. "Ichigo, don't move!" No matter his distrust of the man, Uryuu had no intention of allowing his classmate to become food for a common hollow.

"Tch, like hell!" Ichigo returned, never taking his eyes from the hollow as it shifted. _Here it comes,_ he thought, recognizing the pre-attack pattern. His body tensed, ready to move, and a moment later the hollow's third arm – which had looked stubby and awkward – shot forth, trying to grab him.

Ichigo leapt backwards, rolling and staying low in an effort to dodge the already-retracting arm. He rolled to his feet easily, standing within arm's reach of Uryuu.

Uryuu raised a surprised eyebrow as he asked, "You can see them, then?"

"No shit," Ichigo replied, keeping his eyes on the hollow in front of him. _Well, guess I'm screwed if I wanted to keep my 'secret' to myself._ But there was nothing to be done about it. The hollows had to be taken care of.

"You still wanna know what I'm 'hiding'?" Ichigo asked as he returned one hand to his pocket, fingering the Combat Pass that was hidden within.

"Now is hardly the time," Uryuu replied, his right hand clenching loosely as he prepared to summon his power. _I would much rather _**not**_ have to do this in front of him,_ Uryuu reflected regretfully.

The hollow in front of him moved to reach for him again, and Ichigo said, "Afraid I have to disagree!"

The hollow's arm shot out even as Uryuu cut a glance back at Ichigo in confusion, and Ichigo grit his teeth as he yanked the pass from his pocket.

Uryuu watched with wide, surprised eyes as Ichigo's body crumbled to the ground and his soul leapt free. His soul that looked – and felt – very much like a Soul Reaper. He was so distracted by this unexpected display that he nearly forgot to dodge the extending arm of the hollow.

"You're a _**Soul Reaper**_?" Uryuu cried as he re-appeared on the other side of the pathway, putting both of the hollows (and Ichigo's abandoned body) in front of him.

As he reached up for Zangetsu's hilt, Ichigo replied, "And now you can probably figure out why I didn't want to tell you." His hand closed around the hilt and the wrappings fell free as he pulled Zangetsu forward. Turning his attention to the hollow that had tried to grab him twice now, Ichigo adjusted his grip and lunged.

He barely even grunted as he plunged his zanpakutou through the hollow's broad mask.

The other hollow lifted its large head and its jaw fell open, clearly thinking to attack Ichigo while his back was turned. The faint, slowly building, red glow of a cero was immediately visible within the depths of its mouth.

"I think not," Uryuu declared even as one of his arrows arched through the air, impaling the creature's mask with ease.

Ichigo turned, quickly sheathing Zangetsu over his back, as he landed on the ground once more. The second hollow was already disintegrating, though that didn't surprise him. Even when they'd been more enemies than allies, Uryuu had been good at watching his back.

Dragging in a deep breath, Ichigo let his gaze slide to Uryuu's. _Moment of truth, I guess._

Uryuu lowered his right arm slowly, the bow disappearing as easily as it had been summoned. "You don't look surprised to see that I have power of my own," Uryuu declared carefully.

Ichigo's tone was cautious but to the point as he said, "I'm not."

Suspicion once again clouded Uryuu's eyes. "Do you still insist that your attempting to befriend my friends has nothing to do with me being a Quincy?"

"Yeah," Ichigo asserted easily. "Just like it has nothing to do with me being a Soul Reaper."

There was a heavy silence between them for a long minute as Uryuu thought over Ichigo's words.

At length, Uryuu asked, "What are you doing attending high school?"

Ichigo blinked, confused by the question. "Uh, because it's the law…."

"You know what I'm asking," Uryuu insisted. "If you're here I can only assume it's to watch over Karakura Town. So why would you be bothering to attend high school? Is Soul Society watching us?"

"What?" Ichigo asked before he finally realized what Uryuu was assuming. With a firm shake of his head, he explained, "No, it's not like that. I'm not _**from**_ Soul Society. I'm _**human**_, like you. And, like you, I have to go to school."

Uryuu's eyes widened again as he considered the possibility of Ichigo's words. He was fairly sure that Ichigo had been attending class since before Rukia had first come to the World of the Living, and if that were true, that would lend truth to his claim. Hesitantly, Uryuu asked, "How is that possible?"

It was Ichigo's turn to hesitate. He wasn't sure how much to divulge to this Uryuu, as he didn't yet know if he would be able to trust him. _Still, it's not anything he _**shouldn't**_ already know._ "My father used to be a Soul Reaper. My mother was human."

Another stretch of awkward silence hung between them. Ichigo's claim seemed ridiculous, but Uryuu knew that stranger things were possible. _And if his father was a well-informed Soul Reaper, he could have passed some of that information along to Ichigo._ Uryuu was well aware that Ryuuken and Isshin Kurosaki spoke on a semi-regular basis, so it stood to reason that the secret of the Ishida heritage might not be so secret anymore.

"Listen," Ichigo began carefully, hoping Uryuu would believe him. "I'm not your enemy, alright? I'm just a guy trying to make a few new friends who happens to have an inherited secret of his own."

"And why have you chosen us?" Uryuu asked pointedly.

Opting to go with the only explanation that Uryuu might believe, Ichigo said, "I'd been noticing that a few people in our class have higher spiritual pressure. I thought having a common ground like that might make it easier, when the time comes. You know…that you and the others might be able to understand a little better."

Uryuu took a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a minute, before he opened them again and casually said, "You should get back in your body before someone comes along and sees you."

Ichigo allowed a faintly relieved grin to curve his lips and nodded. A single flash-step took him to his body, and he quickly slipped back inside.

* * *

><p><strong>Orihime's afternoon<strong> had gone quickly downhill after the unexpected attack by two hollows. She had been worried for a moment, until she'd realized that they weren't particularly dangerous hollows. And, if she were being honest, she was secretly eager to see Rukia in action. After all, Rukia had been trapped in that gigai when she'd last been in the World of the Living, and then she'd been imprisoned and attacked while they'd been running around in Soul Society.

And she hadn't been disappointed. Rukia had quickly popped her precious Chappy soul-candy into her mouth, transitioning smoothly into her true form. After instructing Orihime to stay back, Rukia had grabbed her sword and easily dispatched the hollows.

Orihime had been in awe over the beauty of Rukia's zanpakutou, and the grace with which she wielded it.

But, despite the ease of their victory, their good cheer had been severely dampened. It wasn't long until they ended up on Orihime's doorstep, hugging, and promising to see each other again as soon as they could.

Rukia took her leave then, going to collect Renji and say farewell to Uryuu before departing. And Orihime slipped into her apartment, kicking off her shoes and moving on auto-pilot to her kitchen for a drink.

And now she was sitting on her couch, her legs tucked against her at her side, with her lips pursed in thought. She was becoming incredibly frustrated and increasingly concerned as she lost herself in her thoughts.

During her morning conversation with Tatsuki, unsurprisingly, the topic of Ichigo had come up. And Tatsuki had curiously asked her a simple question.

_"When did you meet Ichigo?"_ There had been no accusation in the words, as Tatsuki had nothing against the man in question. She no real opinion of him at all, actually.

But the question had floored Orihime, who had eventually just rambled something about having gotten into a conversation with him earlier in the week. She had internally vowed to spend more time thinking over the question, as she knew there must be an answer in her memory somewhere.

So now she was doing what she'd promised herself she would do. She was trying to remember when she first met him. And she had discovered something disturbing. She couldn't actually remember officially meeting Ichigo Kurosaki.

_But I must have,_ she told herself, rewinding her memory again.

Her first day of high school wasn't particularly noteworthy, especially now that it was buried beneath a couple of years and a whole lot of more interesting happenings, but she felt sure that Ichigo had been there. And she was usually good at remembering her first encounter with a person.

She did her best to move slowly forward from there, looking for a point where she could have met him. Looking for some time when they had interacted long enough to introduce themselves, maybe shake hands or add 'it's nice to meet you'. But the harder she looked the less she found.

No matter how hard she tried, Orihime could not recall exchanging a single word with Ichigo before Monday. And the harder she tried to think about it, the louder her head pounded.

"Oh, I'm giving myself a headache!" She reached up and rubbed at her temples, hoping to soothe the pain away.

_It just doesn't make sense,_ she reflected. _In almost three years of high school we haven't spoken at all, despite always having class together, before this past Monday?_ Neither one of them were particularly shy. She was _**sure**_ she was missing something. _But what?_

An unexpected memory cropped up then, just enough to make her pause. She had taken her brother to the Kurosaki Clinic that night. _Could I have met him then?_

She dismissed it almost immediately. That night was as vivid in her memory as the moment she was currently living. Surely if she had met him then it would have come to her already.

_Still,_ she hesitated. There had to be an official meeting. If it hadn't been that night, then it had to have come later. Only she couldn't find it.

Telling herself to try again, Orihime squeezed her eyes shut as she thought back on their first year of high school. A surprising amount of it was blurry, or faded, and hard to recall. The blurriness started shortly before the night Rukia had saved her from her brother's hollow, and it sporadically continued all the way through the end of the year.

Most of her time in Soul Society was fairly clear, with only the beginning and end feeling fuzzy. But after their return to the World of the Living, things started to get incredibly dark and hard to decipher.

And her headache leapt up several notches when she tried to think about that.

Orihime moaned from the suddenly-piercing pain in her head. "Owwie," she groaned out loud, letting her head fall back into the couch. "All this thinking is bad for my brain! But I have to do it!"

Attempting to push past the pain in her head, Orihime tried again to think back. She was determined to find the answer, and no headache was going to stop her. But, again, she met with patchy, disconnected memories and nothing whatsoever that had anything to do with Ichigo Kurosaki.

_That can't be right,_ she thought with a frustrated pout.

_"Orihime,"_ Shun'ou called, easing into her silent musings.

_"Yes, Shun'ou?"_

Shun'ou's voice was grave and concerned as he said, _"Those memories you've been trying to decipher…they've been altered, Orihime."_

Orihime's eyes widened and, for a moment, she forgot about her relentless headache. _"What do you mean? Altered how?"_

_"I'm not sure,"_ Shun'ou admitted. _"But it's not natural for your memories to be so concealed. You've got older memories that are far clearer. And, now that you've brought our attention to this, I can definitely feel an outside influence."_

Taking a deep breath, Orihime dropped her hands to her lap as she silently asked, _"Can you fix it? Can you erase that influence and get my memories back?"_

_"We can try,"_ Shun'ou replied. _"But it might take a while. It looks like a lot of your mind has been tampered with."_

_"Let me finish a few things, then,"_ Orihime instructed, already pushing to her feet. _"I don't work tomorrow, and it's not a school day, so we'll get started as soon as I'm ready and just push through until it's done."_

She had no idea what had happened to her memories, let alone why, but she would get her memories back. And she would make sure that none of her friends had been affected by whatever it was, too.

Figuring out when she met Ichigo would just have to wait.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Heehee, you're getting excited now, right? I know I am! LOL Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I especially hope that Uryuu wasn't too OOC! (Uryuu's not the easiest for me to write…). Now, if you would, please go send me a review, and don't forget to come back for the next part!


	7. Removing the Veil I

_**A/N:**_ Greetings all! And welcome to chapter seven! I know you've all been eagerly awaiting this part, so I won't stall any longer! You know the drill: please forgive the little things and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Bleach is not mine. Not at all, no matter how much I wish otherwise.

**Holding On**

**Chapter Seven: Removing the Veil I**

** "I'm sorry,** Tatsuki," Orihime said as she pulled her easy dinner off of the stove top. She barely managed to keep the phone nestled between her shoulder and her ear as she moved, adding, "No, no, I'm fine. It's just that I realized I'm really behind on chores, and since I'm not working tomorrow, tomorrow's really the best day for me."

Perfectly balancing the plate of food on one hand, Orihime lifted her water glass and moved toward her living room as she listened to her best friend.

After another minute she smiled and said, "Of course. Okay, thanks so much, I really am sorry! I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

Within moments she'd managed to set the food down, flip her phone shut, and settle at her table.

What she hadn't told Tatsuki was that she wouldn't be working her scheduled shift for Sunday, either. She had already given her shift away, making up some excuse that she didn't feel too guilty about.

_It's important,_ she told herself as she quietly began eating. She really doubted that it would take her all weekend to reverse her recently-discovered bout of memory loss, but she had to be sure. _Plus, when I get my memories back, there's a chance I'll discover that my friends have had their memories abducted, too. I'll need the time to reverse that as well._

And, hopefully, they could figure out what, and who, was responsible for the memory loss.

So she ate her dinner as quickly as she could, and then she hurriedly washed the dishes. After a quick trip to the bathroom Orihime double-checked to make sure that her door was locked and then she moved to her bedroom.

It would be easiest if she could at least sleep through some of the process. Not to mention the bedroom was the only place where she would really be able to stretch out, and something told her she would be stuck beneath her dome for a while.

As she settled onto her futon Orihime released a breath and said, "Alright, I'm ready. Souten Kisshun."

* * *

><p><strong>"Well, I<strong> suppose that could've gone worse, right?" Renji asked as he, Rukia, Ichigo, and Kisuke gathered in the basement beneath the shop.

On a half-sigh, Ichigo said, "Yeah."

"I'm honestly amazed he believed you," Rukia declared. Grinning faintly up at Ichigo, she added, "You're not that great a liar."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at her. "That's why I avoided lying as much as I could. And it's not like he _**trusts**_ me yet."

"He trusts you enough to agree to keep your secret," Renji pointed out. "I'd say that's something, considering you know he's fairly close to Chad and Orihime."

Acknowledging that they had a point, Ichigo shrugged and repeated, "Yeah. But he probably won't keep it too long, especially not if it ever comes up."

"Well, then you'd better get to work on regaining Chad's and Orihime's trust," Renji suggested.

Rukia turned her teasing grin to Renji and said, "Oh, I think he's already got a good lock on Orihime's."

Renji lifted a brow, his own lips transforming into a teasing grin as he asked, "Oh?"

Trying not to sputter, Ichigo snapped, "Would you shut up? It was _**one dinner**_!"

An instant later he knew he'd said too much.

Rukia snickered as Renji and Kisuke turned knowing, teasing, smirks in his direction.

"'One dinner', huh?" Renji asked. He wiggled his eyebrows pointedly and continued, "Did you have dessert, too?"

Ichigo's fist landed firmly in Renji's face and he growled, "Shut up, Renji. No, there was no dessert – and there sure as hell wasn't anything like _**that**_!"

"And, uh, just how many dinners have you shared with Orihime before?" Rukia asked knowingly. Before Ichigo could respond, she added, "With just the two of you, I mean?"

Looking away now in an effort to hide his reddening cheeks, Ichigo crossed his arms and replied, "That's none of your business, midget."

Rukia's grin switched instantly into a frown and she leapt up, landing a kick to his head as she cried, "That's the second time today you've called me that! Don't think I'm going to tolerate it!"

Laughing, Kisuke waved his fan at them and called, "Alright, alright, settle down, please! I think the important thing to note here is that Ichigo seems to be making progress! And, when you report back to Mayuri, make sure to note that those who lost the most of their memories still seem to inherently trust Ichigo, without any real reason to do so."

"We'll do that," Rukia assured the former Captain as she stepped up beside Renji. Looking back over to Ichigo, she added, "Good luck, Ichigo. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Renji nodded, echoing her promise silently, and then the two turned and slid through the newly-opened senkaimon behind them.

The tinkling of the Hell Butterflies heralded their departure as the doors slid shut a moment later.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Just how<strong>__ many dinners have you shared with Orihime?"_ Rukia's voice was still floating through Ichigo's head nearly half an hour later, when he rounded the corner that would take him from Urahara's shop.

_Just the one,_ he thought. It was the honest answer. But it begged the question – why? He'd never given it any thought before, especially since he and Orihime had shared a few lunches alone together. Now, however, he understood the difference. And he wondered what it was about the situation that had resulted in them sharing their first dinner. _First and only,_ he reminded himself firmly.

Still, was there something that she no longer knew about him that ordinarily prevented her from extending an invitation like that?

The obvious answer reared its ugly head a heartbeat later. _**"Who the hell cares? Just make sure it's **_not_** the 'only' time that happens! I, for one, can't wait to hear the sounds she makes-!"**_

_"Shut up!"_ Ichigo interrupted, knowing exactly where his hollow was going. _"And you might as well stop thinking about that, 'cause I'll never let you anywhere near her!"_

Snickering echoed through his head as his hollow replied, _**"You shouldn't deprive yourself like that, Kingy. You know the only reason I want her so damned badly is because **_you_** want her."**_

Ichigo ground his teeth at the accusation. It was hard to argue the hollow's point when he knew the fiend was right. But it was a moot point, anyway, and he knew that, too.

Before he could give it any more thought an unexpected voice interrupted his musings.

"Ichigo?" The voice belonged to Chad, who had just rounded the corner ahead of him, and was now watching him carefully.

Ichigo recognized the look on his former best friend's face. Chad was suspicious of him for some reason, and was studying him. Most likely trying to decide if he was still trustworthy. And Ichigo had a sneaking suspicion of why he was getting that look.

Still, he opted to play dumb for as long as he could, and he pulled a hand from his pocket in a lazy wave as he called, "Hey, Chad. What's up?"

Predictably, Chad's frown deepened for a split-second at the nickname he had yet to get used to. But he refrained from attempting to correct Ichigo, having noticed that he seemed stubbornly set on calling him 'Chad'. Instead, he asked calmly, "Can we talk?"

Letting his arm hang loosely at his side, and keeping his other hand in his pocket, Ichigo lifted one eyebrow just slightly and said, "Yeah, sure. What's on your mind?"

Chad moved a couple of steps closer, so that he could talk quietly and still be heard, before he said, "I asked Uryuu about this earlier, but he said he couldn't answer my questions. I noticed that you were with Uryuu when the hollows attacked a little while ago. And I noticed something unusual about your spiritual pressure."

_That's what I thought._ Releasing a silent sigh, Ichigo's expression fell back to neutral and he said, "Let me guess: you want to know why I suddenly registered as a Soul Reaper?"

Chad inclined his head silently.

"That's because I am," Ichigo stated plainly. Getting straight to the point worked best with Chad, which was fine with him, as it was his method of choice also. _Although, right now, I'd rather not have to talk about it at all._

His visible eye was wide as he asked, "How is that possible?"

Ichigo tried his best to ignore the faint sense of déjà vu as he gave Chad the short, mostly-honest answer that he'd given Uryuu a couple of hours before. He wasn't worried so much about Chad suddenly not wanting to associate with him (if any of them were likely to do that, it would have been Uryuu). But he had really wanted – and hoped – to keep his power a secret until their friendship was a little more solid.

When he was done with his explanation Ichigo finally looked away and added, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

He had intended to add more, but Chad interrupted and said, "You don't have to apologize. We didn't tell you our secrets, either."

Ichigo looked back at him, allowing a faint smirk to curve his lips. "Good point. I guess we're even, then."

Chad inclined his head, silent for a moment, before asking, "I assume you act as the Soul Reaper on duty for Karakura Town?"

"Uh, yeah," Ichigo replied. "Unofficially."

Holding his hand out, Chad said, "If you ever need any help, I'll get your back."

Ichigo stared at the hand for several seconds. He knew Chad was fairly easy-going, and their friendship had literally sprung up in a matter of minutes the first time, so he had expected that Chad would be the easiest to win back. But somehow this still felt too easy.

Allowing an honest grin to curve his lips, Ichigo accepted Chad's hand and said, "Good to know."

Of course, it really wasn't that simple, he realized. Yes, Chad seemed to have accepted his friendship. They could fight together again. Ichigo could call him if he needed backup, or even silent support.

But their bond still wasn't what it had been.

They had exchanged no promise to risk their lives for what the other believed in.

They were friends. But they were not yet brothers-in-arms.

And if that note that Ichigo had found on his pillow a week before had been telling him the truth, there was still some significant work to be done before he would truly have Chad back.

_But it's a step in the right direction,_ he told himself. And, for the time being, he would just have to be satisfied with that.

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo was<strong> becoming more and more restless as the night went on. It was well after midnight now, and he had long since abandoned his body in his bedroom, hoping to find a hollow or two who could help him work off some of his building tension. So far his hopes had been in vain.

_Damn,_ he thought as he landed on another roof, his eyes skimming the well-traveled street. _Where are the hollows when you actually need them?_

_**"****Sitting back and laughing at you, probably,"**_ his own hollow offered, sounding half-bored and half-amused.

_"You weren't exactly the hollow I had in mind,"_ Ichigo retorted, holding still for a moment. It was a sad state of affairs when he had nothing better to do than bicker with his counterpart.

_**"I figured as much. It's not like you to admit when you need me."**_

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo silently growled, _"That's because I'd be lying."_

His hollow tsked at him, the sound echoing throughout his mind, before the hollow added, _**"We both know that's not true, King. You've needed me **_lots_** of times. Want me to list them for you?"**_

Ichigo recalled those moments all too easily, and he had no desire to let the fiend list them out as if they were written on a bullet-pointed piece of paper.

But he didn't want to admit that his hollow was right, either, so instead he changed the subject entirely. _"What woke you up this time, anyway?"_

A sense of smugness emanated from the being inside of Ichigo before he replied, _**"I don't get why you can't accept that I enjoy popping up randomly. If it pisses you off, or frustrates you, or makes you do something embarrassing, then it's worth it to me. Unless you make yourself look like an idiot – that's my image, too, after all."**_

_"No, it's not," _Ichigo retorted, shaking his head and flash-stepping to another roof. There was no sense in standing around for too long.

Resignation heavy in his tone, the hollow said, _**"Unfortunately, it really doesn't take much to make you look like an idiot, King. You should really work on that. I mean, you'll never get the Queen to take you in if doing so would make **_her_** look bad."**_

Ichigo's jaw ticked and his hands curled into fists. _"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't talk about Orihime!"_

Snickering faintly, as the hollow faded away, he said, _**"And yet you don't even have to think about who I meant. Time to wake up, Kingy…."**_

Landing on a large tree branch in the park, Ichigo lifted one hand and curled his fingers into the trunk. _Of course I knew who you meant, you bastard,_ he thought.

The problem wasn't admitting how he felt about her. The problem was that he needed to focus on rebuilding their _**friendship**_, or he would never get her back.

And there was a good chance that he would never quite get her back, anyway.

His fingers dug deeper into the bark of the tree, biting into his skin, but he barely felt the pain.

He would have to be pretty damned lucky to be able to get their friendship anywhere close to where it had been before. And he'd never considered himself to be particularly lucky.

So he would focus on the problem at hand. He would do everything he possibly could to earn her true, unyielding friendship.

_Anything more than that is a pipe dream. It always has been._ And he would only be hurting himself if he let himself forget that.

Orihime Inoue was too good for him.

She was too pure, too precious, too innocent, too sweet – too perfect. She could do anything, be anyone, go anywhere that she wanted. And she was beyond out of his reach. Everyone knew it.

His heart just refused to listen.

* * *

><p><em><strong>She was<strong>__ trapped in a nightmare. She _**knew**_ it was only a nightmare; that it wasn't real. Or, more accurately, that it was no longer her reality. She had already lived through this – already survived it._

_But, in that moment, the dark skies of Hueco Mundo were more oppressive than ever. _

_The white sand beneath her covered knees was harsh and grating._

_The sounds of a largely one-sided battle echoed in her ears, coming from somewhere behind her._

_Her breath was coming in short, desperate, painful gasps._

_Her eyes already burned from the tears that were still streaming down her face._

_She was pulling at her hair, scratching at her cheeks, doing anything at all to distract herself from the unbearable ache in her chest._

_Her heart had never hurt so badly. Her world had never fallen apart so effortlessly. _

_Her brain was numb. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say._

_There was only one thing that she did know._

_She knew that she could not, ever, accept the reality before her._

_Ichigo Kurosaki could not be dead. _

_He could not be gone._

_She could not have lost him._

Orihime shot awake with a gasp, propelling herself into a sitting position even as she reached up, clutching at her chest with shaking hands. Her brow was covered in sweat, and her hair was matted to her forehead awkwardly, but she ignored it. She focused on trying to regulate her breathing.

"Orihime?" Shun'ou's concerned voice called carefully as he and Ayame hovered a few feet away. "Are you alright?"

Her voice was shaky as she finally released the bunched fabric of her nightgown. "I…I remember." Tears pooled behind her eyes the moment the words left her lips.

She remembered everything now.

It had all come back to her as she'd slept beneath her Souten Kisshun. She even remembered _**not**_ remembering him.

A choked sob tore from her throat, and Orihime's hands fisted in her lap. The first of the tears leaked free, unrestrained, as she gasped, "H-how could I? I can't believe…how could I let that happen?"

"It wasn't your fault, Orihime," Shun'ou offered quietly, moving close and resting a small hand on her heaving shoulder. "You did the best you could."

Orihime's hands lifted until they were covering her face as she gave in to her tears. Between choked sobs she brokenly gasped, "That's no…excuse! Oh…Ichigo!"

Shun'ou and Ayame exchange silent, saddened, looks before quietly receding to their resting places. There was nothing they could do to help for the moment.

After only a few minutes, Orihime sucked in a heavy, ragged breath and pulled her hands from her face.

She had to make everything better as quickly as possible. She certainly didn't have the right to cry over it, not when the one who had really suffered was Ichigo.

_Do I call him first? Or do I fix the others first?_ It was a difficult decision. Though, she supposed, she could do both simultaneously.

She could send Shun'ou and Ayame to Chad and Uryuu, and then Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuiro. And while she was doing that, she could call Ichigo. _It'll go faster if I can get them into groups. Maybe I'll ask Uryuu and Chad to meet up somewhere._

Decision made, Orihime turned toward her nightstand and reached for her phone. Her hand was poised over the small device when she finally registered what her clock was telling her.

It was barely past four in the morning.

Her heart sank. She just couldn't call them at such a horrible hour.

She pulled her hand back, leaving the phone on the nightstand, and chewed on her lower lip. _What should I do?_ Could she justify calling Ichigo at four in the morning?

No. She couldn't. The news would keep until the sun was up and the day had begun. And she knew, though he'd never admitted it to her directly, that he slept horribly whenever he was stressed. So she was sure he'd been sleeping horribly all week.

For a moment, Orihime considered attempting to go back to sleep herself. _Maybe, if I sleep off my tears, he won't be able to tell I was crying._

She shifted and looked down at her pillow. There was no way she was going back to sleep. And if she were to just lie down and try, she would only end up crying more. Not that she honestly thought that wouldn't happen, anyway.

A new idea struck her, then, and Orihime sighed in resignation.

_It makes sense, I suppose._

If she was going to be up for the day, and she was unable to actually make more progress on fixing the terrible problem at hand, then she might as well use the time to compose herself. And possibly to figure out the best way to tell Ichigo everything she needed to.

Orihime pushed to her feet, then, and gathered up her cell phone and a change of clothes before making her way to the bathroom. She could already feel the next round of tears building in her eyes, and without a good reason to push them aside she knew that they would prevent her from doing anything else for a little while.

But what she really needed was to try and relax.

So, with that thought in mind, she set about preparing a bath. The hot water would ease the tension from her muscles, and probably help her cry. The time would help her come to terms with what had happened, and possibly help her devise the best plan for fixing it.

And then she would make her calls. She would set into motion whatever plan she would decide on, and, by the time the day was through, Ichigo's life would be back in order.

She would make sure of it.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ So, first, let me say…I know it's a teensy bit shorter than usual, and I'm sorry. I tried (I really did!) to make it longer, but this chapter _**refused**_ to be longer. So, I do hope you can forgive me for that! If it's any consolation, I can absolutely confirm that the next chapter is the one we've all been waiting for! (Yes, 'we' includes me – this is the chapter I've been waiting to write! LOL) But, before you rush off to the next chapter (and look, wasn't it nice of me to post it alongside this one?), could I convince you to drop me a note? Pretty please?


	8. Removing the Veil II

_**A/N:**_ Here's chapter eight! Are you excited? I know I am, so I won't keep you long! In fact, I have nothing to say, so go read!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Bleach…well, I don't, so why dwell on it?

**Holding On**

**Chapter Eight: Removing the Veil II**

** Uryuu lifted** a curious brow as he met up with his best friend just outside of Kisuke Urahara's shop. "Yasutora?" he asked reflexively, his tone implying the rest of his question. He could only hope the gentle giant had a better idea of why they were there than he did.

Shaking his head, Chad asked, "She called you, too?"

"Yes," Uryuu replied, his curiosity giving way to concern. It was unlike Orihime to summon either one of them, let alone so early in the morning. Especially given the destination she'd requested.

Briefly flicking his gaze back toward the sidewalk that led up to the shop, Uryuu said, "Let's hope she gets here soon. I'm worried about what could have motivated her to contact us both at barely eight o'clock in the morning."

Chad hummed his agreement, silently following his friend as they stepped into the shop.

The door had barely slid shut behind them before Kisuke's voice carried through the halls, "Oh, good, you made it! This way, please!"

Exchanging hesitant, concerned looks, the men filed down the hallway cautiously.

They passed Jinta and Ururu, who appeared to be working to ready the store for opening. And the closer they got to the back room, where their host was waiting for them, the stronger the faint, appealing odor of Tessai's favorite herbal tea became.

The pair made it to the indicated room a minute later, stepping in easily and pulling the door shut in silence.

Kisuke had guided them not to his usual meeting room of choice, but to a large, bare room that was more often than not reserved for recuperation. The man himself was sitting casually, barely a foot from the wall, with a cup of steaming tea resting beside him.

"Good morning!" Kisuke called cheerily.

Uryuu's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where's Orihime?"

Kisuke waved his fan toward them dismissively, saying, "Oh, don't worry, Orihime's fine. But she won't be joining us this morning."

Chad spoke up next. "Orihime was the one who called us and asked us to meet here. Why wouldn't she come, too?"

The fan lifted until it covered the lower half of Kisuke's face, and the former Captain replied, "She never intended to meet you here personally. She simply needed to gather the pair of you in one securable location. And when she explained her needs, I happily offered my facilities. But don't take my word for it."

Their attention was almost immediately drawn to the two small figures who had been sitting patiently on one of Kisuke's shoulders, remaining so quiet that neither man had noticed them.

Shun'ou held out his hands in a pacifying, almost apologetic gesture as he said, "Please understand, Orihime has something very important to do this morning, so she asked us to take care of this for her."

"Take care of what?" Uryuu asked carefully. He trusted the small creatures – they were a part of Orihime, after all – but he was still hesitant. He had no idea what was going on.

"Uh, it's a bit hard to explain," Shun'ou offered hesitantly. "Could you both please have a seat? It's much easier if we let Mr. Urahara explain."

"Yes," Ayame added softly as she hovered beside her companion. "And please get comfortable; I'm afraid you'll be here for a little while."

Chad moved silently toward the center of the room, implicitly trusting the Rikka.

Uryuu reluctantly followed his friend's example. As he settled into a seated position, he looked past the fairies and asked, "So what is it that you're supposed to explain to us?"

Lowering and closing the fan as he spoke, Kisuke said, "All I can tell you at the moment is that you can relax; everything will become clear when Shun'ou and Ayame are done."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Uryuu asked indignantly even as the aforementioned fairies settled their healing dome over the seated pair.

Kisuke met Uryuu's stare through the golden haze and said, "You're not yet ready to know the answers to your questions." He lifted his tea, took a long sip, and then set it down again before adding calmly, "But that will change soon enough."

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo forced<strong> himself to slow to a casual pace when he reached Orihime's floor, knowing that she would worry if he showed up at her doorstep looking like he'd run the entire distance between her apartment and his house. That was, of course, if she was in a state to be able to worry. His jaw clenched and he allowed himself to fast-walk down the hall, fists tight at his sides.

He'd still been tugging on his jeans when his cell phone had started ringing that morning. The ringtone had told him who the caller was (reminding him also that he should probably change it for the time being), and the clock on the desk had told him that something must be wrong.

Why else would Orihime call at eight-fifteen in the morning? Especially since, as things stood, he wasn't exactly the first person she'd run to in an emergency.

Needless to say, when she'd asked him to please come over, he had quickly agreed. And he had barely taken the time necessary to finish getting properly dressed.

He took a deep breath when he finally reached the appropriate door.

His first instinct was to barge in, one hand in his pocket, more than ready to leap into a fight. But he knew she wouldn't have called him if it were a hollow (if he'd really believed otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered with his body). So he lifted one still-clenched fist and knocked.

And then he waited, impatiently, for reassurance that she was okay.

"It's open!" Orihime's slightly-muffled voice called a beat later.

A dozen different reactions flooded him, but Ichigo took the hint and let himself in without hesitation. He barely remembered to kick off his shoes at the entry as he called, "Orihime? Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!" Orihime replied. There was nothing in her voice that indicated danger. Nor was there anything in the apartment that indicated even a recently-ended skirmish.

And, in fact, now that he was taking a second to breathe, he realized the apartment smelled like food. Specifically, it smelled like she had been baking. _What the hell?_

Reining in his concern, Ichigo pushed the door shut before starting for the kitchen. As he moved, he asked, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Orihime looked over at him as soon as he'd stepped into the kitchen. She was standing just in front of the oven, properly dressed for the day, and her hair had been swept back in an effort to keep it out of her face. Her hands were covered by oven mitts and holding a tray of something that looked suspiciously chocolaty.

She offered him a bright smile and jiggled the tray just slightly, declaring, "Yes! In fact, your timing is perfect! I just pulled the second batch from the oven!"

Feeling entirely confused, Ichigo let both of his eyebrows lift as he asked, "What are you talking about? Why are you baking at eight o'clock in the morning?"

Giggling softly, Orihime moved to the counter, setting the tray down on a large pot holder, beside a cooling rack. The first batch of her early-morning project was resting on the top half of the cooling rack. "I made brownies! I used the recipe from the bakery, and I followed it exactly, so you don't have to worry about finding anything strange in the middle!"

For a moment, Ichigo felt a twinge of instinctive relief. But then his confusion was back in force.

Scowling, Ichigo stepped properly into the kitchen, moving towards Orihime as she carefully cut and placed the new brownies. He kept a healthy distance between them when he stopped, asking, "Not that they don't smell great, Orihime, but I feel like I'm missing something. Did you really call me over here to share brownies with you?"

"No, of course not, silly," Orihime replied laughingly. She kept her gaze, and the majority of her focus, on her task. It was harder than she'd anticipated to keep her composure now that he was there. But she wanted to get everything done right; she couldn't let on to the truth yet.

Ichigo's scowl deepened. Standing closer to her now, he could tell that her smile was strained. And he saw her swallow heavily before speaking again.

"Actually, I made these brownies entirely for you," she declared as she set the last one onto the cooling rack.

Utterly thrown, Ichigo couldn't help but repeat, "For me…?" _Why would she do that…?_

Orihime quickly deposited her tools into her sink, making a mental note to clean everything up later, and then she reached out and carefully lifted one of the first brownies from the rack. It was perfectly cooled, as she'd known it would be, and she turned to properly face Ichigo, holding it out for him. "Here, try one. Tell me what you think."

Not knowing what else to do, Ichigo silently reached out and took the brownie from her hands. It was still warm and moist to the touch, and it really did smell amazing. But, brownie held at chest level, he hesitated.

His eyes lifted back to hers, unsurprised to find her watching him carefully, and he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyelids drooped slightly, her eyes glazing over for a second, before she planted that smile back on her face and insisted, "Try one first." There was a pause, and something flickered in her voice when she added, "Please."

Without another complaint, Ichigo lifted the brownie the rest of the way and took a bite. As he'd expected, it was delicious. It tasted just like those brownies at the bakery that he ordered whenever he went in to check on her. But he knew she would want him to eat the whole thing, so he smiled around the brownie and took another, larger, bite.

"Is it good?" Orihime asked, clasping her hands behind her back. Her voice wavered again, just a little, and she prayed he didn't notice.

Ichigo swallowed, pretending for the moment to be oblivious to her roiling emotions, and nodded. "It's delicious," he assured her. He popped the final bite into his mouth as he noted the redness around her eyes. It was faded, indicating that she had been crying a little while ago, but not so much recently.

_A little while ago would have been five in the morning, though,_ he realized. And that was unacceptable. If he could find whatever had kept her up crying at an hour like that, he would kill it – and kill it slowly.

Her strained smile brightened a little at his compliment. "I'm glad," she said.

When he had swallowed the last of the brownie, Ichigo let his arms drop to his sides and his lips dipped back into a frown as he demanded, "Now tell me what's going on. Why are you so upset?"

Orihime's eyes widened and she looked away quickly, clearly embarrassed at having been figured out. "I…." She paused, swallowed heavily, and dragged her eyes back to his.

Her voice was soft and fragile when she said, "The brownies are an apology. A really bad one, I know, but…but I'm working on making it better. I'll get everyone together today and, by tomorrow, this…this will just be a bad memory. I promise."

More confused than ever, Ichigo asked, "An apology for what? You haven't done anything to apologize for, Orihime. Tell me what you're talking about."

Orihime swallowed and a single tear slipped down her cheek as she shook her head. "Yes, I did." She sucked in a breath and, without pausing to think, she stepped into him, lifting her hands to curl in his shirt and burying her face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry! If I had only run a little faster…!"

For a moment, Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. He still wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but he hadn't expected her to latch onto him. He hesitated for a beat, more out of shock than anything else, before raising his arms and wrapping them around her shoulders.

"Orihime," he said gently, wishing he knew more about what was bothering her. "Whatever it is, it's okay. You really haven't done anything; you don't need to apologize."

Orihime gasped against him, trying to regain control of herself. In her perfectly-planned apology/revelation, she had not broken down like this. She needed to pull herself together and say what really needed to be said.

After a long minute, Orihime reluctantly released his shirt and eased back so that she could look into his eyes. His grip loosened immediately, though he didn't release her entirely, for which she was grateful.

"I'm sorry," she said again, offering him a sheepish smile as she reached up to wipe at her face with one hand. "I didn't mean to start crying again. What I meant to say was…Ichigo, I remember."

Ichigo froze, every muscle in his body locking in place as Orihime's softly spoken words reverberated through him.

His eyes slowly widened as he dared to hope that she meant it the way it sounded, and a part of his mind whispered, _That would explain her behavior._

Still, he couldn't assume. If she was talking about something else and just being odd about it, and he said the wrong thing, he could ruin any chance he had.

His voice was careful and hesitant as he asked, "Remember what, Orihime?"

Her smile softened, reflecting understanding and promising reassurance before she said, "Everything. _**You**_." She pursed her lips, then, something obviously occurring to her, and asked, "What happened to your spiritual pressure? It's all hidden, like you've covered it with a big blanket."

Ichigo opened his mouth, reflexively aiming to answer her question, but he snapped it shut again a beat later. There was only one reason she would ask about that.

_She remembers._

His arms tightened around her, hauling her up against his chest without warning. Orihime squeaked in surprise, but made no move to pull away. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder, her face turned toward his collar, and let her arms curve around his torso.

Ichigo lowered his head, letting his cheek rest against her temple and inhaling a deep, comforting breath of her scent. His eyes fell closed and his muscles finally relaxed, though he kept his grip firm.

No man could pry her from his arms in that moment; and God help the one who tried.

Orihime tightened her own hold on him, knowing he would speak when he found the words. And feeling selfishly grateful for the rare opportunity to hold him. But her heart ached with each moment that passed, because she knew that he must have been in unbearable pain to be letting himself behave this way now.

It was a long minute (or possibly several) before Ichigo realized that he still hadn't spoken.

As his thumb rubbed, gently, comfortingly, over her shoulder, Ichigo finally managed a simple question. "How…?"

Orihime pulled in a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of her heart and ignore the way her whole body tingled from such a simple, subconscious, caress. Without lifting her head from his shoulder, she replied, "I realized that I couldn't actually remember meeting you. I've always been good at remembering things like that, so I tried a little harder, and the harder I tried the more I found that a lot of my memories were blurry and faded."

Ichigo listened as she told him of her conversation with Shun'ou, and her decision to fix her memories.

Voice soft now, Orihime admitted, "I never imagined that I would find I had completely forgotten someone…." _Let alone someone so important,_ she added silently. "I'm so sorry, Ichigo."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Ichigo said, "I'm the one who needs to be apologizing, Orihime. I should've found a way to stall him longer."

Orihime tilted her head just slightly, until her nose was brushing against the exposed skin of his collar, and she murmured, "I know you did everything you could. I just can't…can't believe…it worked." Another tear rolled down her cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. She had no desire to break their embrace.

"Don't feel bad," Ichigo instructed quietly, shifting his hold enough to lean down and whisper in her ear. His lips grazed the smooth shell of her ear as he added, "What matters is…this."

Her heart fluttered again, though because of his words or the new tingling in her ear she wasn't sure. But a faint, true smile curved her lips and she said, "I won't feel bad if you won't feel bad."

His lips twitched and he only barely stopped himself from pressing them against her temple. Instead he said, "That sounds fair to me."

Another long minute stretched before Ichigo suddenly discovered that he was no longer focusing on the feeling of relief – on the knowledge that he had her, and soon everyone else, back.

Now, his body was acutely aware of having her pressed solidly against him. Her nose was tickling his collar, her forehead was brushing against the side of his throat, and her hands were fisted tightly in his shirt over his back. And there was absolutely no space between their bodies.

Ichigo swallowed again, knowing that if they remained as they were the entire situation would take an awkward, ill-timed turn. So, reluctantly, he loosened his hold on her as he said, "You know, I don't think I can eat all those brownies by myself. Think you'd be willing to help me out?"

Orihime bit back the whimper of disappointment when his grip began to loosen, but she took the cue, and even managed a faint giggle at his words. When there was enough space between them for her to easily meet his eyes, she smiled and nodded. "Sure."

She pulled her arms back to her sides with extreme reluctance, but her smile was easy as it widened and she said, "If you want to go sit down, I can bring them out. Oh, and do you want any coffee or tea?"

"Either is fine," Ichigo began. He gave her a pointed look and said, "But you already made me let you do all the work once this week; that's all you get for a while. So how can I help?"

Orihime blinked at him for a moment before she broke into poorly-muffled laughter and said, "Okay, okay, you win. Um, you could put the brownies on a big plate – I have some in that cupboard – while I make the coffee?"

Inclining his head, Ichigo moved to the indicated cupboard and said, "That works."

As they set about their tasks Orihime remembered something else of importance and said, "Oh! I almost forgot! I already had Uryuu and Chad go to Mr. Urahara's; Shun'ou and Ayame should be working on restoring their memories by now. It'll probably take a few hours, especially since I'm working on them both simultaneously, but…they should be back to themselves soon."

Ichigo had paused, one brownie in his hand and hovering over the partially-filled plate, and he looked back towards the slender figure preparing their coffee. She was constantly amazing him.

Allowing a faint smile to curve his lips, Ichigo looked back to the brownies and said, "Thanks, Orihime."

Orihime paused and looked over her shoulder, toward Ichigo. She smiled, half at the sight of him plating brownies in her kitchen, and half because of the mood that hung over them. Softly, she said, "It's the least I could do." And then she turned her focus back to the coffee.

* * *

><p><strong>They had<strong> settled in the living room after the coffee was done, and after finishing her first brownie, Orihime gently declared, "When I'm done with Uryuu and Chad, I'll send my Shun Shun Rikka to Tatsuki. But…I might need a little help gathering Keigo and Mizuiro together."

"Orihime," Ichigo began, setting his freshly-poured cup of coffee back on the table, "you don't have to do it all in one day. That's too much to ask."

Her eyes narrowed stubbornly and Orihime replied, "Yes I do. But it's okay; don't worry about it. Besides, it'll probably be tomorrow morning before I'm done." She paused, her determined expression fading, and then she looked over and asked, "Who else needs their memories restored? Should I send them to your old boss tonight?"

Ichigo frowned. He was concerned that she was – and would be – spreading herself too thin. But he decided to work backwards on his response. "No, I've…already got a new job." _Even if I sort of wish I didn't._

"You do?" Orihime asked, clearly surprised. "Doing what?"

He looked away now, not so much embarrassed as he was frustrated. At length, he replied, "Urahara hired me."

Orihime blinked at him, for a moment not sure that she had heard him correctly. But the irritated glint in his eyes, and the set of his jaw, told her that she was not hallucinating. So she smiled and said, "That could be good, though. I mean, Mr. Urahara will understand if you have to run off to fight hollows. And he's actually going to pay you, right?"

Ichigo sighed and reached for another brownie. "Yeah," he said. "Those are most of the reasons I agreed to it. He said he probably won't have me help out at the store very often, but occasionally he might need 'a little extra labor'."

Orihime screwed her face up and asked, "Did he really say it like that?"

"Yep," Ichigo replied, grinning faintly at her expression.

"Well," Orihime began, her face relaxing, lips curving into a teasing grin of her own, "you tell him if he ever tries to make you do something weird or dangerous that he'll have to answer to me!"

Ichigo chuckled around his mouthful of brownie, and, once he'd swallowed, he replied, "I'll do that."

Orihime laughed with him for a beat before she reached for her coffee. She took a careful sip and put the mug back before saying, "You never answered my other question, though."

Keeping his sigh in check this time, Ichigo replied, "I won't lie and say I don't want my friends back. But, especially at this point, I don't care if my teachers have forgotten me. And, besides, restoring anyone else's memories would get awkward once they realized they'd forgotten me."

Lips pursed in thought once again, Orihime reluctantly nodded. "I suppose that's true."

Ichigo lifted his coffee to his lips silently. He couldn't describe the relief he felt, knowing that Orihime was in his life again. And he knew he could relax, and stop having to worry about how to deal with his other friends. They would be 'his other friends' again soon enough. But none of that meant that he wasn't still upset about what had happened.

It had been a long time since he had cried, but he had cried that night. More than he had in years. And he'd felt the urge a few times since then, even if he'd managed to resist it.

Orihime pulled her lip between her teeth as she watched Ichigo take a long sip of his coffee. She could tell, from the set of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes, that he was reflecting on it again. Not that she could blame him. She just didn't want him to have to be upset any more.

Setting her own mug back onto the table, Orihime shifted her weight a little and did something she'd never dared before. She let herself lean into him, deliberately resting the majority of her weight on his arm and shoulder. "It'll be better soon," she promised quietly as she bravely wrapped her hands around his forearm.

Ichigo's heart tripped unexpectedly when Orihime leaned against him. For a second he was sure she'd fallen asleep, but then she'd spoken, and her hands had danced down his bicep to wrap around his arm, and he realized she'd done it on purpose.

He let himself relax a little, and he shifted, leaning into her slightly as he set his mug back on the table. "I know," he said quietly. His newly-freed hand landed over her clasped fingers, but he said nothing else.

He knew if he opened his mouth, he would say something he shouldn't. But there was a heavy reality setting down roots in his mind. _I don't know what I'd do without her._

Her head landed on his shoulder, but neither said anything more.

* * *

><p><strong>"So, uh,<strong> what are we doing here, exactly?" Keigo Asano asked as he, Mizuiro, and Tatsuki gathered together in front of the unassuming candy shop that afternoon.

The door slid open before either of his companions could respond, and Uryuu stepped out calmly. "Thank you all for coming over on such short notice," he said politely. He gestured to the open doorway as he continued. "If you'll come inside, we'll explain everything."

Tatsuki's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she planted her feet. "Drop the mysterious crap, Uryuu. What's going on? Is this about Orihime?"

"Not exactly," Uryuu replied. "It really will be easier if you'll just trust me on this, Tatsuki."

Speaking up again, though hesitantly, Keigo asked, "Is Yasutora here, too?"

Shifting his gaze to the brunette, Uryuu said, "Yes. He's inside."

Mizuiro shrugged and stepped forward. "Well, we won't get anywhere just standing around out here. Lead the way, Uryuu."

Nodding appreciatively, Uryuu turned and stepped back into the shop. He noted, without turning, that the trio filed in after him obediently. And, after pausing to close the door, Uryuu led them toward the back, where Chad and Urahara waited.

With a little luck, they would all be in the proper condition to meet up with Ichigo and Orihime by dinner.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ So, did you enjoy the reunion? I have to say, I ran through like five different scenarios before I settled on this one. And yet, as soon as I thought of brownies, I knew this was what I wanted LOL Anyway, I hope it was satisfying! And, don't worry, I promise I deliberately left out the _**other**_ moment we've all been waiting for. But it's coming! And, uh, in the meantime…wanna review? It'll pass the time while you're waiting for chapter nine…(if you don't think about it too hard).


	9. Back on Track

_**A/N:**_ Welcome back! I know you're all eager to see how everything builds after what happened last chapter, so I won't make you wait any longer!

**Disclaimer:** Bleach is still not mine.

**Holding On**

**Chapter Nine: Back on Track**

** Most of** Saturday was spent at Urahara's shop, with Ichigo exchanging several more semi-awkward apologies with his friends. Uryuu apologized for his behavior, and even Keigo apologized for some of the things he'd said earlier in the week.

Once everyone had gotten it a little out of their systems, Ichigo demanded that they all stop apologizing. Afterward, the group stayed, the conversation becoming progressively easier as the day rolled on.

Ichigo hadn't enjoyed time with his friends that much since the first week after the end of the War – if that.

Eventually, the day became dark and everyone acknowledged that they should probably call it a night.

"Now, Ichigo," Kisuke called as the group gathered just beyond the entrance of the shop. Ichigo looked over in silent curiosity, and the shopkeeper said, "I want you to come in after school on Monday, okay?"

Something between a groan and a sigh escaped Ichigo's mouth before he said, "Yeah, alright. But I'll go home to change first."

Kisuke waved his fan at Ichigo with a laugh and replied, "Of course, of course! Now go on, enjoy the rest of your weekend!"

As the shop door slid shut, Uryuu turned to Ichigo and said, "I still can't believe you actually took a job from him."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ichigo replied, "Tell me about it."

"Uh, Ichigo," Keigo began, his eyes downcast, from where he stood a few feet away.

Tatsuki cut him off, clapping a hand on his shoulder and saying, "He _**said**_ 'no more apologies', remember?"

"I know that!" Keigo insisted loudly. He slumped again a moment later, but when he looked back over at Ichigo he managed a smile and added, "Good night!" He turned, then, and ran around the corner.

"That idiot," Tatsuki grumbled, her hands on her hips.

"I wouldn't worry about him," Mizuiro declared. He turned a smile to Ichigo and the others before saying, "But he had the right idea. I think I'll head home. See you all on Monday."

"Later, Mizuiro," Ichigo called as Mizuiro walked calmly way.

Silence settled over the group for a minute before Tatsuki let her arms fall to her sides and turned to face them properly. She spared a glance at Orihime before locking eyes with Ichigo and saying, "You're walking her home, right?"

"T-Tatsuki!" Orihime cried, her face flushing self-consciously.

"Tch," Ichigo replied easily, "Of course I am."

"Good," Tatsuki said with a nod and a grin. "See you both Monday, then." She turned, took a single step, and then turned back to level a pointed look on Chad and Uryuu. "Come on, you two. Walk me home."

Chad and Uryuu exchanged surprised, wide-eyed, looks before mumbling their consent and bidding good night to their friends.

It wasn't until after the trio was out of sight that Orihime mumbled, "Um, you don't have to walk me back if you don't want to. I'm sure I'll be fine." She couldn't look at him as she spoke; she didn't want him to see that she wanted him to ignore her words. So she kept her eyes on her hands, which were fidgeting restlessly before her.

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow at her words. _Like I don't know what she's doing,_ he thought. Silently, he pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped closer to her. Then he reached out and dropped one hand over hers, squeezing lightly, and said, "I'm sure you would, but I want to, so it doesn't matter." He allowed the grin to show as he added, "Besides, I don't trust you not to eat the rest of my brownies if I leave them at your apartment overnight."

Orihime's mouth fell open as she looked up at him, her embarrassment forgotten, and she exclaimed, "Wah! I would never do that!"

Chuckling faintly, Ichigo pried her hands apart so that he could wrap one in his comfortably as he said, "Maybe not intentionally."

They were walking before either of them realized it, headed in the direction of Orihime's apartment.

Orihime could do nothing but follow a half-step behind him, her eyes glued to their joined hands. He was holding her hand. In public! _He probably just doesn't realize he's doing it,_ she told herself, knowing her cheeks were near crimson. And it was probably true, but she wasn't going to tell him. Her hand was so warm and pleasantly tingly, wrapped as it was in his larger, stronger one.

It was a feeling she hoped she would never forget.

Ichigo was acutely aware of the fact that he was holding her hand as they walked. And he was amazed that she was letting him. It hadn't been something he'd done on purpose – in fact, he hadn't given it a thought at all until it had already happened – but he was most definitely not complaining.

Her hand fit perfectly in his. It was warm, smooth, and soft against his hard and calloused one. He never wanted to be farther away from her than he was in that moment. He never wanted to let her go.

* * *

><p><strong>They walked<strong> that way until they were suddenly standing in front of Orihime's apartment. And then, reluctantly, they pulled their hands apart.

Orihime dipped her hand into her pocket for her key as she asked, "Do you think…you could stay for a bit? Or do you need to get home?"

Ichigo didn't need to think about his answer. But he paused long enough to make it seem like he did before he said, "I can stay for a while."

The door swung open and Orihime looked back at him, smiling. "Only if you want, of course," she added guiltily.

He frowned at her pointedly and tilted his head toward the apartment. "I wouldn't stay if I didn't want to, Orihime. Now make room for me, will you?" The last was said with a teasing lilt to his voice as the frown softened and he followed her inside.

Orihime laughed at his words and moved obediently further into the apartment.

They easily stepped out of their shoes, and Orihime was hanging her light coat up when she finally realized that Ichigo didn't have one. Eyes wide, she asked, "Oh no! Did you forget your coat at Mr. Urahara's?"

Ichigo watched her as she stepped back from her coat, turning a concerned gaze toward him, and his lips tipped up at the corners as he said, "No, I forgot it at home."

"Why would-?" Orihime began, only to cut herself off when she realized the answer to her question. "Oh. I'm so-!"

Ichigo's index and middle fingers landed on her lips, effectively silencing her apology even as her eyes popped open in surprise. Holding her gaze firmly, he quietly said, "I thought I asked you to stop apologizing?"

He tried to ignore the tingling beneath his fingertips as she slowly nodded her head, causing her lips to drag and push against his fingers. The feeling should have been awkward, but all he could think of was how soft her lips would probably be beneath his.

Swallowing heavily, Ichigo pulled his fingers back when he was satisfied that she understood his point. And before he could do something stupid.

Orihime was feeling strangely giddy – in addition to lightheaded, self-conscious, and breathless – and so as soon as his hand was hanging at his side again, she said, "Sorry!" She burst out laughing nearly before the word was past her lips, and she immediately clamped both hands over her face to try and muffle the sound.

Ichigo's eyebrows shot up his forehead, and he couldn't help but grin. He mock-glared at her, then, and said, "You little sneak." Then he turned, slipping his hands into his pockets, and started for the living room. Over his shoulder, he called, "I think I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you. You're turning in to a real troublemaker."

She was still laughing as she trailed after him, arguing, "I am not! I just couldn't resist!"

"Uh-huh," Ichigo drawled as he spread out in his usual seat. "That's how it starts, you know. First you have a harmless urge you just can't resist, and the next thing you know you're wasting a perfectly good roll of toilet paper on your best friend's car."

Settling in her usual spot at his side, Orihime said, "Well, none of my friends have cars, so there's no need to worry."

Ichigo was chuckling even before she'd finished, and it briefly occurred to him that it was nice to be in such a _**good mood**_. It wasn't often he could even honestly say he was in a good mood, but then and there he decided to put in the extra effort to change that. Because, really, he had everything he needed.

Beside him, Orihime's eyes landed again on his plate of brownies, and she pulled her lip between her teeth, obviously contemplating either asking for one or sneaking one.

_Well,_ he admitted silently as he watched her lick her lips, _maybe not _**everything**_._

"Are you gonna take one or not?" Ichigo asked, his voice low and faintly teasing.

Orihime jerked upright, as she had been slowly leaning forward, and her face flushed brightly as she slammed her hands down to her lap and turned wide, startled, embarrassed eyes in his direction. She began stuttering incoherently when she opened her mouth, trying to find a way to excuse her behavior.

Grin broadening, Ichigo reached out and lifted a brownie from the plate. He held it toward her, slightly invading her personal space, and he tried not to laugh when her stuttering stopped and her eyes focused again on the chocolate. "Go ahead," he assured her.

Orihime reached out and took the brownie from his hand without further instruction, and she only barely managed to stop herself from taking an embarrassingly large bite. But her attention was drawn from the small piece of Ichigo-approved heaven when she noticed that Ichigo had pulled his phone from his pocket. For a brief moment, she was afraid he was going to take a picture of her as she ate the treat.

But, instead, he hit a couple of buttons and then put the device to his ear.

_What is he doing?_ Orihime wondered as she swallowed her bite. She was about to ask when he started speaking. And her eyes widened as he proceeded to order a large pizza.

He pulled the phone from his ear a minute later, slipping it back into his pocket as he said, "Hope you don't mind; I thought we should aim for something more substantial than brownies for dinner."

"I, um," Orihime began, stuttering again. She closed her mouth, swallowed, and finally said, "That's fine. But you didn't have to do that, I would have been happy to make us something!"

"Orihime," Ichigo said, meeting her gaze firmly. "You've done more than enough today. Let me at least thank you with a pizza."

Orihime deflated and she smiled softly. "You don't have to thank me at all," she said. "But…you can if you want to."

Ichigo's expression softened again, and he held her gaze for a long minute in silence. He could never get tired of looking into those expressive, vibrant gray eyes.

When he finally looked away, Orihime did her best to silently drag in a deep breath. Her heart always did funny things, and her brain almost always forgot to communicate with her lungs, when he looked at her like that. But it was always worth it.

As she regained her breath, a wayward thought struck her, and Orihime found herself asking, "Ichigo…will you still be my partner for the project?"

Ichigo re-focused, only then realizing that he'd gotten lost in his head, and turned to look at her again. "Of course," he said. And then he kicked himself internally, and he added, "The truth is…I was planning on asking you, anyway. I just kept forgetting about the damn thing."

Orihime giggled for a moment, her eyes dancing, and she asked, "Really? Well, that works out, then!"

Cocking an eyebrow at her, Ichigo asked, "Who did you _**think**_ I'd be working with?"

"Eh? Oh, well, I guess I sort of thought you could always decide to ask Tatsuki," Orihime admitted. "Plus, there was no guarantee that someone else hadn't already asked you."

"Tch," Ichigo scoffed, throwing in a half-hearted eye roll before he added, "Most people in class are afraid of me, remember? And besides, Tatsuki and I could never work together for that long. We'd probably end up killing each other."

"You would not!" Orihime insisted immediately.

Ichigo grinned, but instead of commenting on her belief, he turned the conversation back around. "So how many guys did you have to turn down?" He didn't know why he was asking. But he knew that if he was suddenly presented with a list, he would have a hard time not 'accidentally' breaking a few faces.

He might not be good enough for her, but no one at school was good enough, either.

Orihime's expression turned thoughtful, as she clearly hadn't put a lot of thought into the topic, and she tapped her chin for a moment before saying, "Actually, no one asked me at all."

"No one?" Ichigo repeated incredulously. Was he really doing _**that**_ good a job at chasing them all away? For an instant, a strange surge of pride filled him.

Orihime had already moved on, reaching for the plate with the remaining brownies and saying, "I think I'll wrap these up for you while I'm thinking of it. Want me to grab you a drink while I'm up?"

Ichigo pushed to his feet as she stepped away from the table and said, "I think I'll wait until the pizza gets here."

She paused, half-way to the kitchen, and said, "Oh, you don't have to get up! I'll only be a minute!"

"It's okay," Ichigo assured her. He wasn't yet ready to let her out of his sight.

But the world was against him as, after taking only a single step, his phone began ringing.

Orihime paused again, having accepted his answer and continued toward the kitchen, and looked at him curiously over her shoulder.

Ichigo tugged the phone out, glanced at the display, and sighed. Looking back up at Orihime, he said, "On second thought, I guess I'm taking this. I'll wait out here."

She nodded, smiled, and said, "Okay."

She had barely turned to continue walking when Ichigo put the phone to his ear. "What's up, Yuzu?"

His sister's voice was concerned as she immediately asked, "Ichigo, you've been out all day! Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Ichigo cringed. He hated worrying his sisters. Keeping his voice calm, and hoping his tone was reassuring, he said, "Sorry, Yuzu. Yeah, everything's fine. I've just been out with my friends."

"You have?" Yuzu asked, sounding almost hopeful. "Oh, that's good. I was starting to worry that maybe something had happened with your friends – you were home a lot more than usual this week."

"Ah, yeah," Ichigo began, stalling awkwardly. His father had been aware of the situation from the beginning, and he suspected Karin knew more than she'd been told, but Yuzu still knew next to nothing about his extra-curricular activities. "It was just an odd week is all."

"If you say so," she replied. Her tone was curious, but not accusatory, when she asked, "Will you be home for dinner? Should I hold it for you?"

"No to both," Ichigo said easily. "Sorry, I meant to call. I'll probably be out late; we've already ordered a pizza."

Disappointment colored her voice, just slightly, this time when she spoke. "Oh, okay. Well, we'll see you when you get home, then, Ichigo."

"Yeah," Ichigo said, feeling slightly guilty, but knowing his sister would forgive him. "See you tonight." He hung up a minute later with a sigh. Ordinarily he wouldn't ignore his family for the entire day, but this wasn't an ordinary day. _Then again, what is anymore?_

"Is everything alright?" Orihime asked carefully as she approached him. She held a bottle of water loosely in one hand at her side.

Lifting one corner of his lips, Ichigo nodded and said, "Yeah, it was just Yuzu checking up on me. I forgot to call and let her know that I wouldn't be home for dinner."

Orihime smiled again, this time in understanding.

The pair re-settled at Orihime's table, talking easily as they waited for the pizza to arrive. And when it did, Ichigo completely ignored Orihime's attempts to hand him money for 'her half'.

Ichigo was still reluctant to leave, even after the pizza had been eaten and the box disposed of. A part of him was afraid that he would wake up in the morning to discover that this day had been nothing but a dream. So he decided to stay as late as he could get away with without making her uncomfortable.

Orihime was thrilled when she realized that he wasn't ready to go after they'd finished dinner. It was refreshing to see him in such obviously good spirits, and to know she had a hand in coaxing that smile onto his face made her proud. But, as the conversation continued, her long day began catching up with her.

She'd been up and active since roughly four in the morning, and now it was almost nine o'clock at night. That alone would be enough for most people. But, on top of that, she had actively used her powers for hours on end. If she counted from when she had started healing herself, she was approaching twenty-four hours.

Of course, that wasn't quite right. She'd been done healing herself for several minutes before she'd woken up, and she didn't use her powers again until eight in the morning. That was a four hour break. And then she'd finished restoring everyone's memories around three-thirty in the afternoon. However, the extreme extended usage was still enough to be felt.

_But I can't fall asleep yet,_ she told herself, fighting back another yawn. _I don't want him to feel like he has to leave…._ She smiled at something he'd said, trying to yawn through her nose, and a small voice in the back of her head whispered, _Maybe he'll stay…._

Ichigo frowned at her third poorly-covered yawn. _Of course she's tired,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself. _She's been working hard all day, and she never did tell me when she actually got up this morning._ Deciding he'd overstayed his welcome, he said, "Orihime, you should get some sleep. You're exhausted."

"No," Orihime replied stubbornly. "I'm fine, really."

Raising an eyebrow pointedly, Ichigo said, "You're getting cross-eyed."

Orihime blinked rapidly for a moment before her eyes refocused. At length, she asked, "…am I?"

"Yeah," he replied, his lips twitching. It was cute that she wanted to stay up to keep him company, but he couldn't be so selfish. Especially after all she'd already done for him that day.

Ichigo shifted and pushed to his feet, holding a hand out to her as he rose. "Come on," he said patiently.

Orihime pouted dramatically, but she accepted his hand and let him pull her up. "Okay," she said on a sigh, clearly disappointed with herself.

She stumbled when she was standing, and Ichigo reflexively pulled her into him. "You should've kicked me out an hour ago," he said quietly, his hands lingering over her sides.

Orihime made a sound of disagreement that was muffled by his shirt as she snuggled into him. He was warm, and strong, and safe, and he smelled good. And, if she were being honest with herself, she really _**was**_ tired.

Ichigo felt his face heat up as he realized that Orihime was more asleep than he'd thought. Her hands were curled loosely in his shirt and her head was resting on his shoulder like it was a pillow. And a traitorous part of him (that was rather large, actually) wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms, carry her to her futon, and hold her close as she slept. As _**they**_ slept.

_No,_ he told himself firmly, deliberately shoving the idea from his mind before he could put any real thought into it. Even so, it was ridiculously tempting.

"Orihime?" he whispered, squeezing her sides gently. She only moaned, faintly, and attempted to burrow deeper into his shoulder. He realized, then, that she wasn't actually standing – she was slumped against him, being held aloft only by him.

His heart rate tripled and he had to swallow heavily. He was going to have to carry her after all.

_It's okay,_ he told himself. _I can do this. I've carried her before. Hell, I've even carried her to bed before._ His self-motivating speech was doing nothing to help him, especially when he unintentionally touched on that still-sensitive memory from the week before.

It was true; he _**had**_ carried her to bed before. But only once. On the night that he'd thought he'd lost her forever. And if it had been hard to walk away from her then, he knew instinctively that it would be even harder to do so now.

He scooped her carefully into his arms, pausing to let her readjust herself, her head still supported by his shoulder. And, as he started walking, he made a decision.

He may not be good enough for her (the reality was, there was no such thing, anyway), but he was going to try. After having lost her once, he knew he couldn't live the rest of his life without at least _**trying**_. Because it was true, what they said. It was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

So he would fight for her love – for that special place in her heart – and, if he was lucky enough to earn it, he would dedicate his very existence to making sure that she never regretted it.

_But that all comes later,_ he reminded himself. _First, she needs sleep. And I can't be the perv who watches her sleep._ Which meant he would have to go once she was settled.

With a silent sigh, he knelt carefully on the floor beside her perfectly-made futon and, ever so gently, settled her onto it. He made sure that her head was resting properly on the pillow, and he froze for a beat when her face scrunched up as his hands began pulling away.

She moaned quietly, her face softening as she shifted, settling more into place. She rolled slightly toward him, one hand reaching out, not quite touching his nearest knee.

Ichigo pulled back, far too tempted to lean down and kiss her, and rocked to his feet fluidly. He wouldn't be able to tuck her beneath her comforter, as she was lying on top of it, so he turned and headed for her closet, where he knew she kept a spare.

He found it easily, and then returned to her, kneeling again beside her and gently draping the fabric over her sleeping form. She sighed softly, almost breathlessly, as the comfortable, warming weight settled around her.

Ichigo hesitated, then, even though his task had been accomplished. Her simple beauty in that moment took his breath away, only, unlike before, this time it was a good, warming feeling.

She rolled completely onto her side, facing him, and some of her hair fell into her face.

Without thinking, Ichigo reached out and brushed it back, letting his fingers trail, lightly, across her soft skin.

His skin tingled at the points of contact, but that sensation was almost as quickly forgotten when Orihime smiled and sleepily murmured, "Ichigo…."

He swallowed again and pulled his hand back. He was on the verge of doing something he shouldn't; it was time to go.

Releasing a breath, Ichigo pushed to his feet and took a step backwards quietly. "Good night, Orihime," he murmured, letting his eyes linger over her one more time. And, he noted, it wasn't nearly so bittersweet a moment this time. He would see her again, and she would smile and greet him warmly.

So he _**could**_ leave. Because it wasn't goodbye.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Yes, that's right, it's not over yet! But it is close…I'm thinking two more? Perhaps three? Anyway, enough of that, I need to know how you feel about this one! So, press that pretty review button and let me know, and then go ahead and continue on to ten! ^_~


	10. Don't Ever Let It End

_**A/N:**_ Welcome to chapter ten! And, with the ever-approaching end of the story, I'm happy to say we're well under way to some more happy things! So, let's see what happens next, shall we?

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own Bleach. For that matter, I also don't own the title of this chapter. I'm borrowing it from a Nickelback song.

**Holding On**

**Chapter Ten: Don't Ever Let It End**

** Orihime rolled** onto her back, stretching and yawning, the following morning as her eyes blinked open. _Ooh, do I have to get up yet? I'm so warm and comfy!_

Her eyes shot open a beat later as realization dawned. _Wait, when did I fall asleep?_

She bolted to a sitting position, her comforter falling to her lap, and that was when she realized that it wasn't her regular comforter. In fact, she was actually _**on top**_ of her usual comforter. And she was still wearing her loose-shoulder shirt and ankle-length skirt from the day before. A groan escaped her as she realized what must have happened.

She had fallen asleep on Ichigo. Literally!

With an embarrassed moan, Orihime flopped back onto her futon, her hands finding their way over her face. "I can't believe I did that! How am I supposed to face him now!" It was a long minute before she pushed back into a sitting position. She might as well begin her day – and she'd have to use the time to think of how she'd apologize for this one.

But she froze, not even half-way to her feet, when her eyes landed on something that hadn't been in her room previously.

Resting on her nightstand, between her cell phone and her clock, was a small plate. The plate was weighed down with two decent-sized brownies, and covered in protective plastic. A handwritten note was lying on top of the plastic, balancing perfectly.

Orihime pushed the rest of the way to her feet and stepped up to her nightstand, her heart doing something funny in her chest. _He…left me some of his brownies?_ Her hand lifted, reaching for the note carefully, as if it would crumble if she grabbed it too quickly. But, once it was securely between her finger and thumb, she lifted it anyway.

MORNING. HOPE YOU SLEPT WELL.

CALL ME TODAY IF YOU HAVE SOME FREE-TIME. DON'T WORRY IF YOU DON'T, IT'S NOT AN EMERGENCY.

ENJOY YOUR BREAKFAST.

It was such a simple, straightforward, note, and yet Orihime smiled as she read it a second time. It was the first note Ichigo had ever actually written her.

Clutching the piece of paper over her heart, Orihime declared, "Okay, I'll take a quick bath, eat my breakfast, and then call Ichigo!" With another glance at the note, this time to determine if his 'call me' felt urgent, she finally decided that it didn't and turned to begin her day.

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo was<strong> in the middle of putting his father in his place when his cell phone rang that morning. It was Orihime's ringtone.

"It sounds like someone wants you!" Isshin sang as he attempted to kick his son's feet out from beneath him.

"Shut up, old man!" Ichigo snapped, shifting his weight to his other leg and kicking up, catching his father under the chin. As the elder Kurosaki fell backwards, Ichigo dipped one hand into his pocket and extracted his cell phone.

"Who is i-?" Isshin attempted to ask, his words being cut off as Ichigo's sock-covered foot landed over his mouth.

Ignoring the flailing former Soul Reaper beneath his foot, Ichigo put the phone to his ear and said, "So you finally woke up, huh?"

Orihime laughed self-consciously on the other end of the line. "Eh heh, I'm really sorry about that, Ichigo! I had no idea I was so tired! But, um, thank you…."

Ichigo did his best to fight off the upwards curve of his lips, but he wasn't used to the effort and so he was unsuccessful as he replied, "It's fine, Orihime, don't worry about it."

"So…you wanted me to call you?" Orihime asked, not wanting to rush him off the phone, but also not wanting to keep him from whatever else he was doing.

"Yeah," Ichigo said, pausing to glare at his still-squirming father as the man tried calling out despite the foot that still covered his mouth. Looking away from his father then, Ichigo asked, "Are you free today?"

Orihime hesitated at his question. But her answer was simple, so she pushed aside her confusion and replied, "Yes. I'm actually free all day. I sort of gave away my shift the other day, when I realized…that something wasn't right."

Ichigo's jaw clenched for a moment, but he pushed past it and his voice remained light as he said, "Well, in that case I'd better make it worth it, right? Would it be okay if I came by in about twenty minutes?"

Laughing faintly, Orihime said, "I wasn't looking at it that way, but if it makes you feel better, then yes. And of course you can; you don't really need to ask."

"Sure I do," Ichigo insisted, stepping easily back as his father finally thought to reach for his supposedly-vulnerable ankle. "I'll see you soon, then."

"Okay, I'll be here!" Orihime assured him. She could only hope to have her ridiculous fantasies back under control by then. But he was making it hard. Not that she would ever complain about spending time with him.

Ichigo pulled the phone from his ear and disconnected, and only then did he return his focus to his father. "Why do you insist on having no manners?"

"Me?" his father demanded incredulously. He sprang to his feet, pointed to his face with both index fingers, and exclaimed, "I couldn't breathe!"

"Don't be overdramatic," Ichigo retorted, dropping his phone into his pocket. "You could breathe just fine – I wasn't blocking your nose."

"Don't try to distract me!" Isshin cried, suddenly in Ichigo's personal space and latching on to his shoulders. "That was Orihime, wasn't it? You were on the phone with Orihime? Have you finally made a date with my future daughter-in-law?"

Ichigo's fist found his father's face for the third time that morning, and Isshin's grip slackened as the older man slumped back to the floor, this time clutching at his nose.

"It's none of your business, dammit!" Ichigo asserted. Then he turned and stomped toward the hall. "I'll be out all day again, but I'll call if I'm gonna miss dinner."

"Take your time, son!" Isshin called after him, his voice muffled by his hands. "We understand!"

Ichigo grumbled something under his breath but opted not to respond, instead shoving his feet into his shoes and yanking a jacket from the closet before stepping out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Orihime was <strong>still contemplating her current outfit – the third she'd tried on in the past ten minutes – when Ichigo knocked on the door. _Gah! I forgot about that suppressant thing in his watch!_ And, really, when she thought about it, she wished he'd get rid of it now that it wasn't necessary. She liked being able to sense him, even when they were on opposite sides of the city.

Sometimes, being able to feel his stable spiritual pressure was the only thing that could calm her down.

Shaking her head, Orihime spun and darted for the door, calling, "Coming!"

She pulled the door open several seconds later, coming to a stop as she did so and smiling up at him brightly. "Good morning, Ichigo!"

Ichigo's lips curved in an automatic smile at the familiar, and incredibly missed, greeting. "Morning, Orihime," he replied. His eyes reflexively scanned her, and he noted curiously that she wasn't wearing one of her usual skirts. Instead, she had donned a flowing, long-sleeved green shirt over a pair of short (distractingly short, actually) denim shorts and black leggings.

"Did you want to come in?" Orihime asked, stepping to the side and gesturing wide.

His plan – loose though it was – had been to take her out somewhere. To enjoy a few hours of being out and about together before he bit the proverbial bullet and made his move. But the moment she offered to let him in that flew out the window.

Why would he want to go anywhere, or do anything, that would involve needing to share her attention? Or even needing to share _**her**_?

"Sure," he replied easily, keeping his tone casual as he considered what he was getting ready to do.

Orihime moved more to the side, making room for him, and watched silently as he kicked out of his shoes while she shut the door. He had just stepped out of his second shoe when she said, "I can hang your coat up if you want."

Ichigo nodded and shrugged out his jacket. As he handed it over, he said, "Thanks."

She beamed at him for a beat before turning and securing his coat on her small coat-rack. While her back was turned, Orihime allowed herself to ask, "Say, Ichigo, why are you still wearing that spiritual pressure suppressant thing? You don't need it anymore, do you?"

His eyes widened and he reflexively glanced down at his watch. He'd forgotten all about the device hidden within it. At length, he replied, "No, I guess I don't. I just forgot about it." Suddenly curious about her question, he looked back up and asked, "Why? Does it bother you that you can't sense me coming?"

The question was meant to be teasing, but Orihime had to keep her lips tightly sealed for a moment to keep from stammering anyway. The simple answer was 'yes,' but there was more to it than that, and she didn't want to admit to any of it. _It's not really even my place to be bothered by that._

With a self-conscious laugh, Orihime smiled and said, "I was just curious! Come on, let's go sit down!"

Ichigo frowned as he watched her move to the living room. _That wasn't her real answer,_ he realized. But whatever her answer was, she was clearly embarrassed by it.

He didn't want her to be embarrassed by something like that. He wanted her to be comfortable with him – comfortable enough to talk honestly about her heart, and certainly about the little things that bothered her.

Ichigo followed after her at a casual pace, trying not to notice the way the tips of her hair danced across the small of her back, right above her swaying backside. It was almost funny how hard things were to ignore when one was _**trying**_ to ignore them.

Clearing his throat quickly, Ichigo said, "Orihime. _**Does**_ it bother you that I'm still wearing this thing?"

Orihime paused mid-step, the tips of her stocking-covered toes touching the edge of the cushion she'd set out for herself. She took a deep breath and continued to her seat as she said, "Um, well…it's just…." There was no way to say it without saying it, she realized as she sat, facing him.

Ichigo claimed his own cushion quietly, letting her figure out her words, but he did allow one eyebrow to arch with pointed curiosity as she trailed off again.

Releasing a breath, Orihime curled her fingers in her lap over her shorts and, head tilted slightly down, she admitted, "I don't like it."

Both of his eyebrows went up this time, honestly surprised at her declaration. This was the same girl who worried about the feelings of day-old pastries, after all. He glanced sideways down at his watch, and a part of him couldn't help but think, _I wonder what you did to deserve that._

After a stretch of silence it became clear that Orihime didn't want to elaborate, so Ichigo asked, "Why not?"

Orihime's eyes widened and she looked up again, waving her hands as she exclaimed, "Oh, no, it doesn't matter! I mean, it's yours, and if you want to wear it then you should and who cares what I think!"

Lips twitching now, Ichigo calmly replied, "It does matter. I tell you what, if you tell me why you don't like it, I'll take it off for the day. And," he added when she had opened her mouth to protest, "if it's an argument that I find I agree with, I'll stop wearing it altogether."

She opened her mouth again to insist that he didn't need to worry, but this time she hesitated. If he stopped wearing it, she'd be able to _**feel**_ him again. That was certainly worth a little self-mortification, right?

_But,_ she argued with herself, _how do I tell him _**that**_?_

Her hands lowered to her lap again and she swallowed, deciding to open her mouth and see which path her tongue chose. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and said, "It works too well. I can't feel you anywhere – even right now I can barely sense you – and I…I like being able to close my eyes and know that you're okay, even if I can't see you."

Ichigo listened carefully to each word, and each pause, as she spoke. And his decision was easy. If their positions were reversed, and _**she**_ was the one wearing it, he would feel the same way. He would _**hate**_ the damned device. Because, though he truly was terrible at detecting most spiritual pressure, Orihime was his one exception. He couldn't imagine suddenly not being able to sense her.

_That's not true,_ he corrected himself. There had been a time he hadn't been able to sense her. But _**that**_ association would certainly screw with his head – and his temper – if it suddenly happened again.

Silently, Ichigo reached over and unclasped his watch. A single, light tug removed it entirely from his skin, and he tossed it haphazardly toward her table, which had been moved aside to make room for them.

Orihime lifted her eyes, surprised, when Ichigo's familiar spiritual pressure was suddenly filling her living room. It wafted off him like an invisible aura, stretching towards her faintly, almost deliberately. The strength and weight of it was reassuring, and Orihime immediately relaxed, allowing a small smile to curve her lips.

"Is that better?" Ichigo asked quietly, focusing now on her own spiritual pressure and silently noting the way it almost seemed to reach for his.

"Yes," Orihime replied honestly. "But you really didn't have to do that."

Ichigo shrugged, offering her a lopsided grin and saying, "It really doesn't make a difference for me."

Her smile brightened a bit and her hands unclenched as she finally thought to ask, "So, was there something specific you wanted to talk to me about?"

It was Ichigo's turn to swallow nervously as he mulled over her question. _Yes, there definitely is,_ he thought. But the problem was he still hadn't figured out how best to broach the subject. He certainly didn't have a lot of experience to draw from.

And he wished there was a way for him to say what he needed to without risking their friendship. If this went wrong there was still the possibility that he'd lose her all over again, and he didn't want to think about that.

Was there at least some way he could ask her on a date without confessing to how much he loved her? Or would that be somehow deceitful?

"Ichigo?" Orihime asked, concern coloring her voice as she studied his face. Her own eyes narrowed slightly and her lips curved into the faintest of frowns. _Is he alright?_

Ichigo blinked, re-focusing, and lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck as he said, "Uh, sorry about that. Yes, there is something…I just, uh, don't really know how to say it."

Orihime straightened, as she had begun leaning forward to reach out for him, and her head tilted slightly to the side as she said, "It's alright. Just…say it. You can be blunt with me, I promise I can take it!"

His lips twitched faintly and his arm dropped back to his lap. "It's not a matter of being blunt, really," he admitted. "I just don't want to make things…_**weird**_ at all."

"Weird how?" Orihime asked curiously. She had no idea where Ichigo was going with this. _What could he possibly need to say that might be 'weird'?_

Making sure that 'I love you' was not about to fall from his lips (God knew he'd almost said it a dozen times over the last couple of years), Ichigo replied, "I mean…I just got you back, and I don't want to lose you again."

He paused, swallowing back his nerves, even as Orihime's brows crinkled in confusion. She remained silent, knowing he would continue.

"But," he began, "all of that…made me realize that I'm not as satisfied with my life as I thought I was. So I was wondering if…." He released a breath, wanting to curse at how difficult it was to ask one simple question. "Orihime, would you consider…being my girlfriend?"

'Girlfriend' didn't exactly sound right, not when he wanted so much more, but it was the best place to start. _If,_ he reminded himself, _I'm even that lucky._

Now that he had said it out loud, a part of him actually wished he hadn't. _**Most**_ of his ideas blew up in his face; he wasn't ready for this to follow that path. Now his fate was held entirely in Orihime's hands. There was no one he trusted more, but there was also no one who held more power over him.

Orihime's eyes widened the moment his question left his lips. She wanted to ask him to repeat himself, just to be sure she'd heard him correctly, but she knew better. She knew – if only because of the strange rhythm of her heart – that he really had asked that question. And now, if she could just find the breath to speak, she only had to say one simple word to make her dreams come true.

But finding that breath was proving difficult, and so, in the interest of not making him think she was searching for a way to say 'no,' Orihime pushed to her feet. She watched him watch her as she easily crossed to him, and then she lowered herself again, so that she was kneeling beside him, but facing him as well.

Her knees brushed one of his as she angled herself so that she was still more in front of him than beside him, and she reached out, intending to settle her hands over his nervously clenched fists. However, her hands had other ideas, and instead they reached up until they were framing his face, his jaw cupped gently between her palms.

His eyes widened as he realized what it looked like she was doing, and he froze as Orihime smiled sweetly at him and leaned in. Her eyes drooped when she was close enough that their breaths mingled, and then her lips were over his, pressing hesitantly, and her fingers tightened over his cheeks just a little.

Ichigo's heart slammed against his chest as she kissed him. He certainly hadn't expected _**that**_ response. But he wasn't dumb enough to sit there like a statue and make her do all the work, either.

His fists unclenched as his eyes fell shut and he began kissing her back. But his fingers had barely found her sides, barely found purchase, when Orihime pulled back enough to look into his eyes.

She was still smiling, and her eyes were shining, as she softly whispered, "Yes."

He swallowed again, his stomach unclenching with her response even as his heart did a strange flip. His lips curved up in a soft smile of his own. And then it hit him.

Orihime Inoue had just agreed to date him. She knew him – knew the _**worst**_ about him – and still she had said yes.

_**"No, King,"**_ his hollow suddenly offered, smirking broadly in the back of his mind. _**"She just accepted her destiny. Now **_do_** something about it."**_

_"Get back in your cage,"_ Ichigo shot back. The words were lacking most of their usual venom, however, as even his own personal demon couldn't quite ruin his good mood in that moment. And, besides, for once in his life, his hollow had actually had a point.

Ichigo adjusted, and tightened, his grip on her waist, tugging her easily toward him. He couldn't help but smirk when Orihime squeaked and landed in his lap – exactly as he'd intended. Since he was sitting cross-legged she had landed sideways, with her legs now hanging over one of his.

"Ichigo!" Orihime cried, half-laughing, her face flushing despite her own earlier boldness.

Once more adjusting his grip on her, his grin remained in place as he said, "Come here." For emphasis, he tugged her up slightly until her lips were in reach once more. And then he leaned in, covering her mouth with his firmly.

Orihime relaxed against him, her hands sliding from the base of his neck to his hair as she returned his kiss.

Ichigo's arms tightened around her, his hands splaying across her back and tangling in her loose auburn hair. His tongue slipped out, tracing along her lips, and Orihime gasped at the contact. He swept in as soon as her lips parted, and they both groaned when their tongues met.

The world slowed, forgotten, around them as their tongues slowly began to dance. They slid up and down the other, dragging muffled, ragged, sounds of approval from the couple.

Orihime's hands fisted in Ichigo's hair as she tried to press herself even closer to him. Her whole body was tingling, and burning in the most pleasant way wherever their bodies touched. Her mind was quiet, focused on the delicious taste of him as he explored her mouth.

She had always imagined that he would be a good kisser, but a part of her had assumed that she'd imagined him that way because of her own feelings. She was glad to note that she'd been right. Except now she had a new problem. Now she had absolutely no desire to stop.

Ichigo could feel his body reacting to their embrace, and he knew he needed to break the kiss. The way she was pressing against him, the feeling of her nails scraping his scalp, and the muffled sounds she was making were all adding to the tension building inside of him. But he didn't actually _**want**_ to stop. He'd never imagined that she would taste so good – and he had certainly given it some thought.

Eventually the couple pulled apart, their physical need for oxygen forcing a little space between them.

Orihime's hands released his hair and slid down to his shoulders, but she made no other move to pull away. She still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. And now he was looking at her through half-hooded eyes, a soft, nameless expression on his face, and his hold on her had loosened just enough for his thumbs to begin rubbing gentle circles over her back.

"I think I should have asked you that a couple of years ago," Ichigo declared once his breathing was somewhat stable, a lopsided grin taking over his face.

With a faint giggle, Orihime shifted against him so that she could rest her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck loosely as she murmured, "I'll forgive you. But only as long as you promise to hold me."

Ichigo chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating his chest more than escaping past his lips, and he held her tightly as he softly replied, "That's an acceptable condition."

"Good," Orihime hummed, her eyes closed as she breathed in Ichigo's unique scent.

After a long moment, she smiled against his shoulder and said, "You'd better be careful, though. If you keep holding me like this, I might fall asleep on you again."

Rumbling with laughter now, Ichigo tilted his head and pressed his lips to her temple before he said, "Well, considering that it's barely lunchtime, I'd just have to wake you up."

"I can be pretty hard to wake up," Orihime warned him with a faint laugh of her own. She made no move lift her head or even open her eyes – she really _**was**_ incredibly comfortable.

Ichigo angled his head so that his lips were grazing her ear and he whispered, "In that case, I'll just be forced to kiss you. That works in the movies, doesn't it?"

Orihime nuzzled into him as she laughed outright, barely managing to say, "Only in the fairytales, silly!" She lifted her head, then, smiling with silent laughter as she added, "But I sort of love that you went there."

Undaunted by her point – with her he didn't much care about his reputation, anyway – Ichigo asked, "Where else would I go?"

"I'm sure there are places," Orihime insisted, her smile permanently etched onto her face.

Ichigo grinned and moved one arm until he had hooked it beneath her knees. By the time the look on her face told him that she'd realized what he was doing, he had pushed to his feet, Orihime still comfortably in his arms.

"Ah! Ichigo! What are you doing?" Orihime cried, startled at the sudden change. She kept her arms around his neck, but not because she felt the grip was necessary.

Attempting a casual expression, Ichigo replied, "I reminded myself that it's lunchtime, so I figured we ought to go get some."

Her heart fluttering at the very idea of going on her first official date with Ichigo, Orihime only barely remembered to say, "You can't carry me the whole way!"

Lifting an eyebrow, Ichigo stated, "Yes I can."

Mock-pouting at him, Orihime replied, "You know what I meant. I can walk. And people will give us funny looks if you carry me around like this!"

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't much care what people think." He paused, grinned down at her, and added, "But, if you really want, I'm willing to let you down. However, it'll cost you."

Curious now, Orihime blinked up at him and asked, "Cost me what?"

"Another kiss," Ichigo declared, his voice thick, even as he bowed his head and captured her lips one more time.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Well, if you can't tell, I've officially decided there are at least two more chapters! LOL Anyway, look! Fluff! Ah, I feel like I've missed it! But, enough about me – what do _**you**_ think? Did you enjoy it? Did you think it was a little off? Or was it just too short? Let me know! Oh, and, stay tuned for chapter eleven!


	11. Finding Time

_**A/N:**_ Chapter eleven is _**here**_! Does it make you happy? It kinda makes me happy…or maybe that's just my mood…? LOL Well, either way, I do hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm thinking one more, then an epilogue to follow…but perhaps I'm wrong. We'll see.

**Disclaimer:** Bleach is not mine. I would settle for just owning Ichigo and Orihime, but apparently that's not an option…such is the world we live in. *sigh*

**Holding On**

**Chapter Eleven: Finding Time**

** The next** week passed in a blur, with Ichigo attempting to balance his new (and largely unpredictable) job with his newly-improved social life, and Orihime attempting to learn how to focus on her job now that she had so much more to think about.

Their friends handled the revelation surprisingly well. Keigo had wailed for a minute about having known the day would come when Ichigo would leave him for a woman (to which Ichigo had responded by planting his foot in Keigo's face). Chad had offered them a simple 'congratulations.' And even Uryuu and Tatsuki had taken it in stride, both telling Ichigo to take care of her and otherwise wishing them well.

And, somehow, the school week turned back into the weekend without incident.

It was Saturday again, and Orihime didn't have to work until four, so Ichigo had convinced Urahara to let him have the first part of the day off. It was an argument that hadn't truly even begun before it had ended.

The couple was walking through the park, moving at a casual pace, their fingers laced together. Orihime held her mostly-devoured ice-cream cone in her other hand, and Ichigo held his (which still had a little ice cream and all of the cone) in his other hand as well. As they walked a bird flew across their path, low enough to be easily seen, with a single flower in its beak.

Orihime squealed and gestured with her cone-hand in the direction the bird had flown. "Oh, Ichigo, did you see the bird?"

Chuckling quietly, Ichigo said, "Yeah. He must've screwed up."

Orihime laughed and bumped her shoulder into his. "Maybe it's her birthday," she suggested with a grin before popping the final bite of cone into her mouth.

Ichigo's lips curved into a grin and he relented, "I suppose that's possible." Then he lifted his own cone and sucked the rest of the ice-cream from it.

"I can't believe you still have that," Orihime declared as she licked her fingers clean.

Ichigo swallowed and teased, "We didn't go to the ice-cream shop _**that**_ long ago."

Arching one eyebrow mock-accusatorily, Orihime asked, "Are you implying something?"

"Uh-huh," Ichigo replied, still teasing. "You're hoping to talk me into taking you to the next ice-cream shop, and you figured it wouldn't work if you were still finishing up your first cone."

Orihime's eyes widened dramatically, but instead of her intended response, she grinned and asked, "Is that a possibility?"

Ichigo laughed, squeezing her hand, and said, "We'll see, Hime."

She smiled knowingly and turned properly forward again, letting herself lean on him as they continued walking.

A stunned, disbelieving voice behind them interrupted their moment, calling, "When did _**this**_ happen?"

The teens paused, both recognizing the voice, and Ichigo tugged Orihime around so that they could turn without unlocking their hands. As they moved, their eyes easily settled on the familiar forms of Rukia and Renji, who were both watching them with wide eyes.

Keeping his voice casual, Ichigo replied, "It 'happened' last Sunday." He followed his declaration by taking a bite of his cone.

Orihime's eyes lit up and she waved her now-free hand, crying, "Hi, Rukia! Hi, Renji! It's good you could come back so quickly!"

"Hi, Orihime," Rukia replied with faux-calm before she lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Um," Orihime began, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I don't think so…I mean, we're dating now, but you can see that, so…no?"

Flicking her gaze between Orihime and Ichigo, Rukia slowly asked, "I thought you two didn't know each other that well?"

The couple froze, eyes widening, and slowly exchanged a look. They looked forward again, and Orihime hesitantly asked, "You mean…you hadn't heard?"

"Heard what?" Renji asked pointedly.

"Orihime remembered," Ichigo declared. "And she fixed everyone else's memories, too. But that was a week ago."

"Seriously?" Renji asked in surprise.

Rukia narrowed her eyes on Ichigo and cried, "You idiot! How would we have heard about that unless you'd told us?" Full of indignation, she darted forward, launched up, and aimed a kick at his head.

Ichigo braced himself and moved the hand that wasn't in Orihime's to block Rukia's small foot, remembering too late that he was still holding most of his ice-cream cone. He caught her foot, even as it crushed what was left of his partial-lunch, and shoved her backwards.

Rukia flipped easily, landing on her feet near Renji, and almost immediately lifted her foot again. "What is this?"

"That was my ice-cream cone," Ichigo replied, his voice indicating the beginnings of irritation. Before either Soul Reaper could say more, he added, "And you _**should**_ have known, because I specifically told Urahara to let you know."

Renji looked away from Rukia, back to Ichigo, and held out his hands, palms up, as he said, "Well, the message got lost somewhere, because we hadn't heard. Captain Kurotsuchi sent us specifically to see if anything had happened that could give him more data."

Attempting to wipe her sandal-covered foot on the grass, Rukia added, "He's probably going to be disappointed to learn his antidote won't be needed."

Ichigo shrugged, subconsciously squeezing Orihime's hand again as he said, "Yeah, well, I can't really say I'm sorry. And I sure as hell don't regret killing the bastard."

"I suppose that's understandable," Renji stated with a smirk.

Satisfied that her sandal was crunched-cone free, Rukia straightened and offered the couple a smile. "In that case, I suppose I can forgive you. And congratulations."

Orihime laughed self-consciously, lifting her free hand to rub at the back of her head as she said, "Thank you! And, um, I'm sorry…for making you uncomfortable or anything…when you were here before."

Rukia's expression softened and she planted her hands on her hips, declaring, "Orihime, what happened wasn't your fault. _**You**_ didn't make anyone uncomfortable."

"But-!" Orihime began, instinctively arguing the point.

Ichigo cut her off, tugging on her hand lightly as he said, "We talked about this, remember? Nothing that happened was your fault, so you don't need to apologize. They understand that."

"Ichigo's right," Rukia echoed as Orihime's arm dropped back to her side.

Changing the topic, Ichigo looked back to his friends and asked, "How long are you two in town this time, anyway?"

On a sigh, Renji said, "We can't stay. We were literally told to gather what information we could, as quickly as possible, and then return."

Smirking now, Ichigo said, "Glad we could make your job easy, then."

"Don't get so cocky," Rukia returned with a matching smirk. "We know you're just in a hurry to get back to your date. But don't worry, we won't keep you."

Renji grinned teasingly as he added, "Yeah, we wouldn't want to ruin your afternoon. So you two just go on and have fun, and we'll catch up with you later."

"Ah," Orihime began, "when will you be able to come back?"

Offering Orihime a small smile, Rukia replied, "We don't know yet. But hopefully it'll be soon."

Nodding as if to echo Rukia's statement, Renji said, "Catch you both later, then. And we'll pass along the good news for you."

The bright-haired couple watched in silence as the Soul Reapers opened a senkaimon and stepped through. After another minute, they were alone once again.

Laughing softly, Orihime leaned into Ichigo's arm and declared, "Well, it's never boring around here, is it?"

"That's one way to put it," Ichigo agreed with a chuckle. "Come on," he added as he turned them back in the direction they'd been aimed before.

They had started walking once more before Orihime grinned and said, "You know what? We really will need to go to that other ice-cream shop!"

Arching an amused, curious brow, Ichigo asked, "And why's that?"

"Because your cone was ruined before you could finish it!" Orihime declared laughingly.

Shaking his head slowly as he rumbled with silent laughter, Ichigo replied, "Alright, I guess we'll go to the ice-cream shop."

Keeping her voice casual, Orihime offered, "I could pay for it this time if you want."

Ichigo clucked his tongue, never breaking stride as he said, "Not a chance, Hime."

"Wah!" Orihime cried, running a foot ahead of him – without releasing his hand – in order to face him slightly as she said, "You're so stubborn! It's completely okay if I pay from time to time!"

He tried, and failed, not to grin at her words even as he tugged her back to his side and said, "And maybe I'll let you. Someday. But considering that this is only our third date, I'm not exactly going broke."

Orihime sighed dramatically and leaned into him, covering the exposed back of his hand with her free one. "I know, I know…but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you!"

"That might be the only time I ever hear someone say that to me," Ichigo replied with a laugh.

Orihime laughed lightly and said, "Well, that's because I'm the only person you'd _**let**_ take advantage of you."

Ichigo's lips curved upwards and he squeezed her hand. "You got that right."

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday rolled<strong> into Sunday, and Ichigo was in the back room of Urahara's shop, letting his employer know that he was departing for the day, when Jinta's voice called back, "Hey, New Guy! Someone's here for you!"

Ichigo groaned, grumbling, "I've known him for years, and now I'm 'New Guy'?" With a wave to Urahara, who was hiding behind his fan, Ichigo turned and made his way to the front. He had to head that way, anyway, so at least it wasn't inconvenient.

He was barely five feet down the hall when he realized that his visitor's spiritual pressure was the same as his girlfriend's. And as soon as his lips began curving up at the corners, a different thought crossed his mind. What if she wasn't there just to meet up with him?

The thought was enough for his scowl to return to his face and his feet to pick up speed just slightly. But he was at least reassured by the stability of her spiritual pressure; if she were hurt, or panicked, he would be able to tell. That was something.

And then he was around the final corner and stepping into the actual store, where Orihime was idly perusing the candy shelf.

"Orihime?" Ichigo asked as he moved toward her.

The healer's partially-raised hand lowered as she turned a bright smile to him and said, "Hi, Ichigo!"

He stepped up to her, his eyes again automatically running over her. She was dressed in one of her ankle-length skirts and a wide-collar, three quarter length sleeve shirt. Her hairpins, as usual, were attached to the collar over her heart. And, as he'd come to suspect, she seemed completely fine.

"Is everything okay?" he asked anyway. She hadn't come to see him at work before – ever.

Her smile shifted slightly, showing mild amusement mixed with gratitude, and she said, "Of course! I just thought that I'd come pick you up from work!"

Ichigo blinked at her, dumbly repeating, "Pick me up from work?"

She giggled faintly and clasped her hands together behind her back as she explained, "Yep! You always pick me up when you can, so I thought I'd return the favor!" She paused, her smile faltering slightly, and asked, "You are getting off around now, right?"

"Yes," he assured her, recovering and allowing his lips to tilt up faintly. "I just clocked out, actually."

"Great!" Orihime chirped.

Ichigo turned his attention, briefly, to his 'co-workers' and bid them farewell for the weekend. He opted to ignore Jinta's sarcastic response as he returned his attention to Orihime and said, "Let's get going, then."

Orihime nodded and fell in beside him easily. And that was how they walked as they made their way to Ichigo's house, talking about their respective workdays.

Once they reached their destination Ichigo informed Orihime that she would have to stay for dinner (which Yuzu wholeheartedly agreed with when she learned of his decision), and within minutes they had escaped up to Ichigo's room. Dinner, after all, was still a little ways away.

"Just, uh, let me change out of this stupid shirt real quick," Ichigo said as Orihime settled on a sitting cushion.

Orihime laughed and said, "It's not that bad."

Ichigo looked down reflexively at the shirt Urahara made him wear whenever he was scheduled to work in the store. It was plain white, except for the black lettering that advertised the shop. And he supposed that, overall, it really could've been worse. But he still didn't like it.

"Yeah, maybe," he relented as he reached into his closet for a different shirt.

Orihime watched, swallowing heavily and battling a sudden case of dry-mouth, as Ichigo quickly tore off his work shirt, tossed it aside, and tugged on his personal shirt. For several seconds, she had an eyeful of pure, taut, perfectly tanned, muscle. And even though that muscle was littered with sporadic scars, she couldn't help but think that it was perfect.

She couldn't help but yearn to run her hands over that briefly exposed skin. She wanted to trace every muscle and scar with her fingertips, slowly, and maybe even follow that path with her tongue.

_Gah! What am I thinking! I can't do that!_ Orihime curled her fists in her lap to refrain from burying her face in her hands. If she did that, Ichigo would surely ask why she was doing it, and then she'd have to admit to her inappropriate thoughts. It was best to hide her reactions for now.

Ichigo turned to face her, then, and apologized as he moved to sit on the side of his bed. He cocked an eyebrow at her as he said, "You know you don't have to sit on the floor, right?"

"Heh, heh," Orihime laughed, easily sliding her cushion around to face him properly. "It's alright, I'm comfortable!"

Ichigo frowned and gestured for her to approach him as he said, "Come here."

Orihime swallowed again and pushed to her feet without hesitation. She crossed the couple of feet quickly, but she paused when she reached him. Did he want her to sit beside him?

Seeing her hesitation, Ichigo grinned and reached out, grabbing her hips and tugging her forward.

Orihime suddenly found herself standing before him, his knees on either side of her hips as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer. She felt her face flush slightly, but she didn't have time to think about it before his lips were over hers, massaging gently.

The kiss started slowly, Orihime's hands landing on his shoulders and curling in the fabric of his shirt.

Their lips parted, then, and she released his shirt in order to frame his face as his tongue swept into her mouth. She slumped against him slightly when his tongue trailed the length of hers, and Ichigo shifted his hold, tangling one hand in her hair as his other arm wound completely around her waist.

Orihime took control of the kiss as her arms wound around his neck, slipping her tongue into his mouth and taking her time re-mapping each curve. Ichigo groaned against her lips, his grip tightening around her, and without even realizing it he hauled her completely off of the floor and fell back, collapsing against his bed.

The kiss broke when they landed, though neither really pulled away, and Ichigo found the breath to murmur, "Sorry."

Equally breathless, Orihime gasped, "It's okay." She bowed her head as she spoke, her lips already brushing teasingly over his.

Her fingers buried themselves in his thick orange hair as their lips met again, the hand Ichigo had tangled in her hair lifting to support the back of her head. Their lips parted, their tongues met, and Orihime shifted until she was laying almost entirely on top of him, her calves hanging partially in the air.

Ichigo's blood was heating rapidly, and almost as rapidly rushing to the same spot. He knew where his body was telling him to take this kiss (not that his body didn't _**usually**_ make that request), and he knew that he was going to have to pull away from her lips once again.

Ichigo untangled his hand from her hair and shifted his hold until he was supporting her shoulders, before reluctantly sitting back up. He pulled his lips from hers as she shifted her feet back to the floor and her hands slid back to his shoulders.

"Well, maybe I'll let you pick me up from work more often," Ichigo teased, his voice thick, as he slid his hands back to her sides.

Orihime giggled and said, "You should." Her eyes dropped from his, following her fingers as they played with the collar of his shirt, and then she pulled her lip between her teeth and lifted herself up slightly before angling so that she could sit on his thigh.

Her arms wound around his shoulders, then, and she asked, "So, if you don't want me sitting on the floor, is this okay?"

Ichigo chuckled and looped one arm around her waist, his other hand landing on her outside thigh as he said, "Yeah, this is okay."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Orihime relaxed against him, one hand lifting so that her fingers could dance through the hair at the nape of his neck. She knew, if she opened her mouth in that moment, that she would say something she wasn't sure he was ready to hear. But she was _**so**_ ready to say it.

Similar thoughts were running through Ichigo's mind as he focused on the feeling of holding her in his arms. She liked to be held, he'd discovered, and that worked for him, because he liked to hold her. But every time he held her close, even if they were simply sitting, it got harder not to say those words. At this point, he was afraid he'd end up blurting them without even thinking about it – maybe while they were out on a date, or sneaking a couple of minutes alone at lunch.

And as he contemplated the reality of that possibility, he decided that saying it on purpose would definitely be preferable.

_Well, hell,_ he thought, _I was afraid to ask her to be my girlfriend, and that turned out better than I'd hoped._ Could he be so lucky a second time? There was only one way to find out, really.

"Hime," he began quietly, the thumb over her hip absently rubbing circles.

"Hmm?" Orihime inquired without actually moving.

"There's something that you should know," he said, realizing quickly that he should probably have taken a minute to think about _**how**_ to say it. The lead-in was more complicated than he'd imagined.

Orihime shifted, curious now about what he was going to say, and pulled back enough to meet his gaze. There was no suspicion, or even concern, in her eyes – only curiosity.

He took that as a good sign and plunged ahead. "I know this might seem a little…fast, but, I don't want to end up blurting it or something."

"Eh?" Orihime asked, her curiosity mounting. _What could he be talking about?_ A possibility occurred to her, then, and she had to swallow as she considered it. Could she have been wrong? _Could he…be ready to hear it?_

Holding her slightly-widened gaze stubbornly, Ichigo took a deep breath and said, "I want you to know that…I love you, Orihime."

Her eyes were immediately brimming with tears and a steadily-growing smile curved her lips. "Ichigo," she breathed, "I love you, too."

A real, soft smile lifted his lips and Ichigo squeezed the thigh beneath his hand lightly as he said, "You never cease to amaze me."

Orihime choked on a laugh, a single tear slipping free, and she launched herself forward. Her arms tightened around his neck as she planted her lips over his. The momentum of her launch knocked him off-balance and they toppled, again, onto the bed.

Ichigo's arms curved around her once more, holding tightly as they kissed. She was resting entirely on top of him, and his head was spinning for more than one reason.

He had never dared imagine that she would _**ever**_ say those words back to him. Let alone before they'd been dating for longer than a week. And he was definitely kicking himself for not acting on his feelings a long time ago.

But none of that mattered, because she was in his arms now, and he would never let her go.

* * *

><p><strong>They fell<strong> into a routine over the next few weeks. Tatsuki still regularly walked Orihime to school in the mornings, and so Ichigo had taken to meeting them at the front gate.

Orihime would bounce up to him, place one hand on his shoulder, and lean up to plant a lingering kiss on his cheek. She would pull away with a soft, "Good morning," and a smile meant only for him. Ichigo always returned this greeting by wrapping his free arm around her torso, holding her tightly, and pressing a kiss either to her temple or the crown of her head before whispering his own "Good morning," in her ear.

Tatsuki, Orihime, and Chizuru (whose memories Orihime had also restored), had taken to eating lunch on the roof with the boys, and so, at lunch time, the large group would migrate up the stairs, usually with Keigo at the head of the pack.

Orihime always sat beside Ichigo (who had since reclaimed his regular spot), and she always sat so that her right knee was pressed against his left. Sometimes, if she was particularly tired, or if she was enjoying merely listening to the conversation, Orihime would shift and lean more against him. She would let her head rest against his chest, just beneath his shoulder, sitting close enough that their thighs were touching. And when she did this, Ichigo's subsequently-hidden hand would lift, trailing ever-so-lightly across her back, fingers threading the ends of her loose, auburn hair.

After school, Ichigo always walked Orihime home. He had discovered that one of the perks of working for Kisuke Urahara was that he was able to talk his boss into giving him room in his schedule to take care of her.

And, on the days that neither of them had to work after school (which were few), Ichigo would stay for an hour or two, splitting his focus between the homework they talked about working on and the eagerly-kissable woman within arm's reach. On the days that one (or both) of them had to work, Ichigo would stop at her doorstep and pull her in for a long, deep kiss.

When he could, Ichigo would pick her up after work and walk her home. If she worked until well after dark, Ichigo would always find the time to walk with her.

Weekends were another matter entirely. When one or both of them worked early shifts, the first one off for the day would meet up with the other at their place of work. Free-time was a precious commodity, and they spent what time they could together.

And now, the Friday before their one-month anniversary, Orihime had come to a decision. She couldn't quite believe she'd actually _**made a decision**_ on the subject, but she had. Because she had noticed something about her boyfriend over the course of their relationship.

They never _**just kissed**_ when they were alone together.

When they were alone together, his touch was heavier, hotter, and his kisses were hungrier. He would hold her more tightly, and devour her mouth with a passion that was uniquely Ichigo.

But then he would always pull away, leaving her body aching and burning with a need that had once been foreign to her. And she had come to realize that he felt that burning ache, too. She could see it in his eyes and, if she focused, could even feel a strange sense of desperation from his spiritual pressure.

And now Orihime had decided that it was time to let Ichigo know that she was ready. Ready to take their relationship to the next level; ready to give him the one piece of herself that she hadn't already given him.

Tonight, she hoped, was the night – and Ichigo didn't even know it yet.

_**To Be Continued…**_

_**A/N:**_ Now, I know you're probably all eager to skip right to chapter twelve, but wait! I'm a starving author, you know, and I live on feedback…so tell a girl how you're feeling about it so far? Did you like this one? … Okay, now you may go and read chapter twelve! LOL


	12. No Holding Back

_**A/N:**_ So…I take it you're ready for the next chapter now? Well, you're in luck, because it's here! (I'm sorry, I'm not sure what's happened to my brain…but don't worry, I'll rein it in before the actual chapter starts). *ahem* Anyway, just FYI, after this is only the epilogue. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Bleach is not mine. Not even a little bit.

**Holding On**

**Chapter Twelve: No Holding Back**

_**I won't**__ be pushy,_ Orihime reminded herself. Ichigo was on his way over, as they had agreed to meet that night to work on their class project. It was the Friday before their anniversary, and neither of them had to work until mid-afternoon on Saturday. And since only Ichigo had had to work after school that day, it had seemed like the best time to get together.

_I don't want to scare him off, or pressure him into anything,_ Orihime repeated silently. Granted, it was hard to imagine either of those things in conjunction with Ichigo, but she still didn't want to chance it. The step that she had decided she was ready to take was not a small one, and she wanted to approach her self-appointed mission delicately.

The first phase of this mission had involved a run to the drug store, which she had accomplished on Tuesday while Ichigo had been at work. Then she'd gone to the mall, in search of something to wear for the occasion, and she had been incredibly glad that she'd gone by herself, as she had barely been able to work up the nerve to go _**into**_ the store, let alone to purchase anything. But now she was as ready as she could be, whether it happened that night or not for several more months.

Of course, Orihime was still nervous about the idea of putting her plan – such as it was – into motion.

She took a deep breath when Ichigo knocked on the door, telling herself to push her nerves aside, and quickly moved to let him in.

"Hi, Ichigo!" she greeted brightly, with a matching smile, as she stepped aside and let him in.

Ichigo grinned at her as he entered. He kicked off his shoes before reaching out with his free hand and tugging her to him. "Hey, Hime," he rumbled with his lips a hair's breadth from hers.

Their lips met and Orihime's toes curled in her slippers as she leaned into him. His hand curved around to the small of her back, holding her in place as his tongue rolled along hers. Orihime lifted her hands to frame his throat as she returned the kiss, trailing her tongue over his until she had penetrated the cavern of his mouth.

For a long moment Ichigo struggled with the nearly-overwhelming need to lift her from her feet, pin her to the back of her barely-closed door, and strip them both until their clothes were littering the floor.

But he couldn't do that, and so he pried his lips from hers, letting them linger as long as possible.

When his grip loosened, Orihime let herself fall back to her feet, and she smiled sweetly up at him as she asked, "How was work?"

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo frowned<strong> as Orihime shifted her weight for the fourth time in barely fifteen minutes. He'd noticed, with a twinge of curiosity, that she'd seemed more fidgety than usual throughout the dinner she'd made them, but he'd brushed it off. Orihime was usually anxious for his opinion when she cooked for him, as if she were concerned that he wouldn't like her food. So Ichigo made a point to praise the meal (it wasn't hard; she was an amazing cook when she cooked 'normal').

But that didn't seem to put her anxiety at ease for more than a few minutes. And it came back in force after they had re-settled at the table, this time with their textbooks and notebooks spread out. And now Ichigo was starting to worry.

_Something could be wrong,_ he thought. Orihime would never want to 'burden' him with something that was bothering her, but she would also know that he would _**want**_ to know, and so that seemed like a very viable option.

She was playing with the ends of her hair now as she flipped through a textbook with her other hand. Her eyes were unfocused, and she was curling the strand of hair tightly around her finger, only to let it loosen before curling it again. And then she flipped right past the chapter they were supposed to be working from.

_Alright,_ Ichigo decided, his concern winning out over his patience. Patience wasn't his strong suit, anyway.

Scowl firmly in place, Ichigo looked over at her and called, "Orihime."

She started, her hands freezing mid-motion, and looked over at him with wide, trying-not-too-be-guilty eyes. "Yes?" she squeaked.

His eyes narrowed subconsciously and he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Eh?" she asked immediately, blinking at him slowly for a second. Her eyes lit up with realization, then, and she released her hair as she exclaimed, "Oh, nothing! Sorry!"

Knowing that there was _**something**_, Ichigo assumed he'd asked the wrong question and pushed, "You know what I mean. What's going on? You skipped right past the chapter we need. And you've been fidgety all night. Is something on your mind?"

Orihime's eyes flicked to the book, and she slumped in obvious defeat when she realized she was somewhere in the middle of the third chapter past where they were supposed to be. _Well this wasn't how it was supposed to come up,_ she thought with a slight pout. But she knew better than to hope he'd let it go at this point.

"Orihime?" he asked, proving her theory, even as he reached over and gently covered her nearest shoulder with one large hand.

His touch was radiating with concern, and his spiritual pressure had a familiar matching flare. Guilt swarmed her then; she hadn't wanted to worry him.

She sighed and lifted her eyes back to his. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," she began softly. "I really didn't mean to worry you, and I promise I'm alright. It's just…I've had this thing on my mind lately, and…I don't really know how to say it, but I know that I want to express it somehow and…I told myself I'd try tonight."

Ichigo's scowl deepened, though more in confusion than concern, as he retracted his hand and shifted to face her properly. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Orihime opened her mouth, realized she had no idea how to properly and articulately answer his question, and clamped it shut again. She nodded, swallowed, and fisted her hands in her lap. _What was I thinking? I can't do this! It's so embarrassing!_ But he was expecting an answer, and now that he knew there _**was**_ something, he wouldn't accept 'it's nothing' or 'never mind.'

He didn't like her silence, or the fact that she could barely hold his gaze. He had no idea what was on her mind, but so far he wasn't feeling good about it. So he reached out and covered both of her hands with his, squeezing gently, as he said, "You can tell me, whatever it is. It's alright."

She took a deep breath and forced her eyes up to meet his. There was a flicker of something unusual in his eyes, something that looked like fear. And she realized suddenly that he could be massively misinterpreting her behavior. And then the words came flooding out of her mouth without warning or hesitation.

"Oh, no, it's nothing bad, I promise! It's just that I made a decision about something recently and I wanted you to know but I don't know how to tell you because I don't know how you feel about it yet and it's sort of really awkward to actually say out loud! But I just want you to know that I'm ready!"

She clamped her mouth shut as soon as the final word had spilled past the flood-gate. That was _**not**_ how she'd meant to say it. _Well…at least I said it._

Ichigo's eyes widened, first at the rush of words, and then at the content within them. As she'd been speaking, his hand had released hers, returning to his own lap. His hands shifted over his jeans, wiping against the denim as if they were covered in sweat, and he slowly repeated, "…Ready?"

Orihime nodded carefully, her lip pulled between her teeth. She was terrified of what else might pour out if she opened her mouth, and so she kept it locked tight.

"Ready…how?" Ichigo asked slowly. There was a strange tone in his voice, as if he either couldn't quite grasp her meaning or had convinced himself that he'd misunderstood it.

Knowing she would have to respond with words now, Orihime pulled in a breath before carefully releasing her lip and dropping her gaze to her lap as she quietly replied, "I, um, bought some things…for, you know, when we…or, for when you're ready, I mean. Which can be anytime! It doesn't have to be soon!"

She clamped her mouth shut again when she realized she was repeating the same horrifying behavior, only this time she squeezed her eyes shut, too. She didn't really want to see his reaction.

Ichigo couldn't decide if she was really talking about _**that,**_ or if he was just too chock-full of hormones to think of anything else. And he was a bit afraid of making her _**more**_ uncomfortable by asking for clarification. But he didn't know what else to do, because he certainly didn't trust himself enough to make assumptions.

And then something she had just said struck him, and before he could stop himself he blurted, "You bought birth control?" It was his turn to cringe a beat later, and he briefly squeezed his eyes shut. _Great, now she's going to know why _**I'm**_ distracted, and that'll just make this more awkward._

Orihime swallowed again and slowly lifted her head as she admitted, "Y-y-yes…."

Ichigo's brain shut down with that simple word. His eyes widened, he forgot how to breathe, and he was pretty sure that his heart stopped for several seconds. They _**hadn't**_ been talking about two different things, then. And he didn't know how to handle that.

Or, more accurately, he didn't know how he _**should**_ handle it. But he knew _**exactly**_ how he _**wanted**_ to handle it.

Their gazes held for several long seconds as they tried to process the conversation.

Then, deliberately, Ichigo reached out, grabbed Orihime's textbook, and flipped it shut. He pushed the book toward the center of the table, away from her, as he said, "We have the better part of a month to work on this project. It won't kill us not to start it until tomorrow."

Orihime swallowed when she realized what he meant. Her heart did a strange, nervous, and yet definitely anticipatory, dance, and she allowed a smile to slowly curve her lips. She pushed to her feet, then, and held out a hand toward her boyfriend.

Ichigo took her hand as he stood, and allowed Orihime to quietly lead him down the short hall of her apartment, toward her bedroom. His heart was slamming against his chest at the reality of what they were going to do, and his blood was already starting to burn through his veins.

She released his hand once they had crossed the threshold of her bedroom and turned to face him fully. Standing in her room with Ichigo, and knowing that he was thinking about the same thing she was, was doing a strange thing to her mind. Suddenly she wasn't so nervous (though she was still a _**little**_ nervous), and suddenly she was curious to see just how accurate her earlier assumptions had been.

She wanted to know how much she _**really**_ affected him.

"There's one more thing," she found herself saying, her voice soft but surprisingly stable. He blinked, clearly caught off-guard at her statement, and held her gaze silently. Since his question was obvious, Orihime continued. "I bought something else, too. But you'll have to tell me what you think."

As she spoke, Orihime quickly clenched and released her hands, pushing aside her final nerves. And then she reached back, easily finding the zipper of her knee-length dress, and tugged it down. As the fabric gently rolled off of her arms and pooled at her feet, a strange weight fell off of her as well and Orihime found confidence in her exposure – and in the look that had instantly clouded Ichigo's widened eyes.

Ichigo's eyes had widened when he realized what she was doing, and his tongue was stuck in his throat as the dress slowly – too slowly – fell to the floor. For a moment, his eyes followed the fabric, almost blind to the body that had been exposed to him. And then he re-focused, and he realized what, exactly, she was still wearing.

Orihime stood before him, clad in nothing but a thin, black lace bra and matching panties. The black stood out against her pale, creamy skin, and somehow emphasized the _**laciness**_ of the fabric. And the lace was straining, stretched taut across her chest, and curved in a very snug fit around her hips.

Ichigo swallowed heavily, barely able to drag his eyes back up to hers. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than to run his hands over her body – except, maybe, to help her out of that lingerie.

"So," Orihime began as she reflexively clasped her hands together behind her back, "what do you think?"

"Orihime," Ichigo choked. Something about hearing his own voice snapped him out of his haze, and suddenly Ichigo was in motion. He crossed the short distance between them, planted his hands on her hips, and lifted her straight out of her slippers as he latched his mouth onto hers.

Orihime melted into the kiss, immediately consumed by the fire she felt radiating off of him, and dragged her hands along his arms until her fingers were buried in his hair. He lifted her a little higher, and Orihime finally allowed her legs to wrap around his hips. She instinctively pulled herself closer even as his arms wound entirely around her, holding her tightly and pressing her up against his arousal.

One of Ichigo's hands lifted, tangling in her hair, while the other dipped lower and curved beneath her barely-clad bottom, supporting her as he moved. He had sucked her tongue into his mouth – or had she slipped it inside on her own? – and he ran his along hers as his feet finally found her futon. His knees found it a moment later, but he didn't feel the less-than-graceful impact as her nails dragged down the back of his throat.

Their lips tore apart when Orihime's head hit the pillow, Ichigo's arm tucked supportively behind her neck, and she moaned when Ichigo unintentionally rolled into her. Ichigo bit back a curse and let his forehead land on her shoulder, where he sucked in heavy, ragged breaths of her scent.

He didn't want to take her like some wild animal; he wanted to _**make love**_ to her. This was their first time – together or individually – and it was the only first time they were ever going to have. He wanted to do it right. He wanted her to be able to think back on this night, several years from then, and remember it with a smile. A smile accompanied by that soft, gentle, breathless little sigh that she released whenever she thought of a happy memory.

"I take it," Orihime began, still faintly gasping for breath, "that you approve?"

Ichigo rumbled with silent laughter and lifted his head, feeling slightly more in control, and offered her a grin. "God yes. Black is _**definitely**_ your color."

Orihime giggled, smiling in a disturbingly seductive way, and traced one finger along the shell of his ear as she said, "Good. But I hope you like the red one, too."

"You bought two?" Ichigo asked incredulously. He had half a mind to tell her to go put the red one on, just so he could see it before he got her naked. Because, once she was naked, she was not putting _**anything**_ on until the morning.

She pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth and faintly shook her head. "No. They were having a sale, so I bought four."

For a moment, Ichigo wasn't even sure he could count that high. _Four?_ He swallowed, a familiar throbbing distracting him for a moment, and then he managed, "What…other colors…did you get?"

"They had a pretty royal blue," Orihime said, "and I really liked the white."

"Well," Ichigo found himself saying, his voice thick and his mouth dry, "it'll be a few days before I can tell you which one is my favorite, then."

Her eyes shining with seductive mischief, Orihime said, "And you should definitely have a good impression of each, just to be fair. So you should probably look at the black one again before you forget it."

"That means getting up," Ichigo pointed out, not at all inclined to move any further away from her body.

Giggling, Orihime nodded and trailed her hands down to the collar of his shirt, tugging as she said, "You're still wearing too much, anyway."

She was right, he realized, and so Ichigo reluctantly pulled back. When he was on his knees, and her legs and loosened and fallen to the futon, he unbuckled his belt, fisted his shirt in both hands, and yanked it off in one fluid motion. He paused, his hands already hooked into the sides of his pants, when he saw Orihime staring at his chest.

She licked her lips slowly, her eyes slightly glazed over, and he was reminded oddly of the way she stared at sweets. Only (and it was possible he was biased), he was pretty sure this look was more intense. But it did nothing to ease the ache in his jeans. So he stood up, undid his jeans, and kicked them off, in the direction of his shirt.

He paused to step out of his socks, intending to return to her once they were in equivalent amounts of clothing, but before he could move Orihime had shifted, moving to her knees. Her lip was entirely between her teeth again, and she wasn't trying to hide the fact that her eyes were glued to a very specific part of his anatomy. He didn't know what to do, because he couldn't process what she was doing, and so he remained still as she crawled closer.

Orihime lifted her hands, swallowing heavily as her fingertips made contact with the bare skin above his boxers. His muscles twitched and she sucked in a breath, but she pressed her fingers more firmly against his skin, almost testing it, before lowering them to the hem of his only remaining piece of clothing. Her thumbs ran along the edge of the fabric, and then she hooked her fingers entirely over the sides.

Carefully, oh-so-carefully, Orihime eased the fabric down until it could fall the rest of the way on its own.

She looked up at him, then, to gauge his reaction to her boldness, and found him watching her with a strangely mystified look on his face. It wasn't disbelief, or shock, but there were elements of each, both buried heavily by anticipation. She continued to watch him as she slowly trailed her hands back up his thighs, and he swallowed, breathing deeply. And then her fingers brushed, just a little, over the base of his arousal, and it seemed like every muscle in his body twitched.

Orihime paused, briefly, but when he made no move – or sound – to stop her, she returned her gaze to the sight in front of her and carefully wrapped her hand entirely around him. He tensed, and one hand landed on her shoulder, but again he didn't try to stop her. So she squeezed slightly and pulled her hand forward, and as her hand moved a strangled, appreciative sound tore from his throat.

Her other hand moved around his arousal and cupped him, squeezing again just a little, and she simultaneously repeated the previous motion with her first hand. This time his hand clenched, slightly, over her shoulder and his hips attempted to buck forward. She repeated this process a couple of times, each time dragging a similar sound from his throat, and then she dragged her thumb across his tip. He sucked in a breath, and she knew she was going to do it.

Orihime released his member after one final squeeze, and then she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and fearlessly wrapped her lips around him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, before slowly sliding down one side until she had taken in as much as she could. One hand returned to cover the base, and as it squeezed, she swirled her tongue again and sucked.

Ichigo couldn't bite back the groan of pleasure, his eyes closing tightly as he attempted not to thrust into her mouth. His other hand unclenched and tangled in her hair without conscious direction, faintly guiding her motions as she continued to move along him. Her tongue was doing things that shouldn't have been possible, and it was all he could do not to surge forward.

And then, without warning, he was flying. He cried out, choking on her name as his muscles froze, unintentionally holding her in place for several seconds. His hips bucked, thankfully only a little, several times as his body instinctively sought to ride out the wave of unbelievable pleasure.

Orihime was surprised when Ichigo's hands suddenly locked around her and his hips finally began moving along with her mouth, filling her almost too much before receding and surging forward again. And then there was something else in her mouth, something liquid-like, and the sound of Ichigo's strangled cry filled her ears. She had done it.

She kept the liquid in her mouth, slowly dragging her tongue along him as she pulled back, releasing him entirely and sitting back on her haunches. She dared to drag her eyes up, then, and meet his hooded gaze. As he stared at her, still breathing raggedly, she sloshed the liquid around, tasting it, before swallowing it all at once.

"Fuck, Hime," Ichigo grunted, shifting his hold until he had tugged her to her feet. She was barely standing, and had opened her mouth to speak, when his lips crashed over hers hungrily. His body might have been taking a minute to recover, but the fire in his blood hadn't cooled. In fact, if it was possible, he needed her even more desperately than he had before.

Orihime nearly lost herself in his kiss, her soul melting against his passion, as she let him devour her mouth. His hands were roaming all over her back and sides, slowing over her bottom to follow her natural curves and trace the edges of her panties, before burning a path back up her spine.

She felt his fingers begin to fumble with the clasp of her bra and (barely) remembered her plan. It wasn't quite his turn to be in charge yet. Though she did fully intend to give him the reins – and soon.

So, with some reluctance, Orihime placed one palm flat over his chest and pulled back from the kiss. "Wait," she breathed softly.

Ichigo's hand stilled instantly as his eyes searched for hers. His thoughts were obvious – he was curious about her command, and concerned that he'd done something wrong.

Orihime smiled, the gesture half-sweet and half-seductive, and gently eased out of his embrace, taking a step backwards.

She held his gaze as she reached up, then, her arms curving behind her, and unclasped her bra. She watched his face as his eyes dropped from hers, transfixed by the dark fabric as it moved over her skin. And then she shrugged out of it, flicking her wrist to toss it aside, and she watched as he pulled in a breath and swallowed again. He continued watching as she hooked her thumbs beneath the fabric at her hips and shimmied – with deliberate slowness – out of the panties. Again, they were tossed aside.

The only coherent thought that Ichigo could think was that she was beautiful. He'd already known it, of course, but the creature standing before him was without a doubt the most beautiful, and innately sexy, creature that had ever walked the earth. And she was his. She _**would always be**_ his. All he had to do was claim her.

The look on Ichigo's face made Orihime's already-racing heart start tap-dancing against her ribcage. It was the strangest, most heartwarming, mixture of tenderness, adoration, desire, and raw power that she had ever seen. And she doubted that any other man could pull it off.

Taking an anticipatory breath, Orihime moved into the final phase of her 'First Night' plan and took a single step forward. She saw Ichigo's hand twitch as he clearly thought about reaching out for her, but she simply smiled and lowered once more to her knees. This time, however, she shifted until she was once again on her back, her head against the pillow. And then she held out one hand, reaching for him.

Ichigo watched, mesmerized, as she positioned herself back on the futon. It was as if there was no end to the creamy expanse of skin that was suddenly bare to him, and he couldn't wait to have it beneath his hands and lips. And then she was reaching for him, beckoning to him, and he knew exactly what she wanted. It was the same thing that he wanted. The same thing he was beginning to think that they had both been wanting for a while.

He moved forward, closing the distance between them as he dropped to his knees and slowly crawled over her. He was already settled between her thighs, and the sensation of having her bare body pressing and sliding against his was almost too much. And then he was looking once more into her eyes, propped above her by his forearms, and she was smiling up at him.

"I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and sweet.

Ichigo lowered his head until their noses were touching, their breaths mingling, and he quietly replied, "I love you, too, Hime."

Their lips met a moment later in a surprisingly slow, tender kiss. They moved together, lips barely parted, as Orihime's arms curved around his back. Her hands danced along his muscles, tracing and caressing at an equally slow, lingering pace. After a moment, one of his hands moved and began sliding down her bare side. His fingers brushed the side of her breast, and Orihime moaned against his mouth.

Ichigo's hand continued along its path, fingers skimming along the curve of her hip before changing course and moving toward her center. He reached between their bodies, then, and slowly traced his fingers along her opening. Orihime's hands clenched over his back, her body arching at the light touch, and her tongue finally slipped into his mouth.

He shifted as they kissed, his body once again straining to join with hers, and he allowed himself to slip one finger inside of her.

Orihime's lips tore from his as she sucked in a breath, her eyes closed as her hips rose to meet his hand. If one finger felt this good, she was almost afraid of what it would feel like when they were properly joined. But she wanted to know – desperately. And she gasped his name, attempting to tell him so, as he inserted a second finger and began a slow, easy rhythm.

Ichigo's lips found her throat, beneath her jaw, and he slowly began kissing and licking his way down the slender column. Her skin was sweet on his tongue and he knew if he never tasted anything else in his life he would die a happy man. But that didn't mean he was anywhere near ready to go – he had some important things to accomplish, and right at the top of that list was making her gasp his name again.

After a long minute of slowly, leisurely pumping his fingers into her core, Ichigo withdrew his hand. Orihime whimpered faintly beneath him, though she was still breathing heavily and her cheeks were flushed when Ichigo lifted his head from her throat. He remembered the sight of her, kneeling before him, as she'd swallowed his release. And he remembered thinking there had been no more erotic sight in all the world. So he couldn't help but wonder what she would think as he took his time licking his fingers clean of her essence.

"Ichigo," Orihime breathed, one thumb rubbing along the back of his shoulder as she deliberately lifted one leg against his just slightly.

Ichigo couldn't help but smirk as he pulled his second finger from his mouth, taking the time to swallow before he returned his hand to her side and murmured, "Are you ready for me, Hime?"

"Yes," Orihime gasped, curling her fingers into his heated flesh as she added, "please."

He leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss as his hand gripped her hip and his body tensed. He wasn't so lost in the moment that he'd forgotten what he knew; he knew she would be in pain for a minute. And he fervently wished they could somehow skip that part, but they couldn't, and he also knew that neither of them was willing to stop at this point. Not for something that would still be there the next time they tried.

With his lips still covering hers, Ichigo shifted and plunged inside of her.

Their lips tore apart, Ichigo doing his best to bite back a groan from the pleasure that was immediately searing through him, and Orihime unable to completely swallow her outcry as she suddenly found herself filled in the most intimate of ways. She sucked in several breaths as her body adjusted and the pain slowly receded, until she was just as suddenly on fire.

"Hime?" Ichigo asked, his lips beside her ear and his voice strained. He had locked his body in place, not wanting to hurt her further, but it was hard. Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to move.

Orihime lifted one hand and slid her fingers into his hair as she gasped, "It's okay…." She followed her declaration with a soft moan as she took the initiative and rolled her hips forward. They both groaned and Ichigo's lips latched onto her throat again as he took the hint and let his instincts take over.

He tried moving slowly at first, sliding in and out of her at a lingering, sensual pace, and Orihime's head fell back as her body met his rhythm easily. Guttural moans of pleasure fell past their lips and her hands slid down his back as their bodies rolled together.

And then Ichigo's hand released her hip and slid up, over the smooth plane of her stomach, until he could wrap his fingers around her breast. Orihime arched into his hand almost immediately, her hips lifting from the futon a little more eagerly. He dragged his thumb across her nipple even as he sucked on her pulse-point, and Orihime released a new sound that went right through him.

Ichigo's restraint was about at its end, and so he released her breast after a final squeeze, trailing his hand lower until he could curve his arm entirely around her back. The new grip pressed their bodies completely together, crushing her breasts to his chest, and Orihime's legs lifted, wrapping around his hips as Ichigo's mouth found hers again.

They kissed desperately, hungrily, as their hips slammed together. Any sense of time was lost as he thrust into her, her legs locking behind him and her tongue rolling across his. His hand was latched onto her opposite hip as he held her impossibly close, her own hands curled tightly over his spine.

He surged inside of her over and over again, her hips eagerly rising to welcome him with each powerful thrust. They could barely breathe with their mouths locked together, their heartbeats echoing in their ears, as the sound of muffled moans and sweaty skin on sweaty skin filled the room.

The tension was coiled unbelievably tight in the pit of her stomach, and Orihime suspected that Ichigo felt much the same way as he continued to thrust into her. He filled her completely, sheathing himself to the hilt each time, and each time they came a little, tantalizing bit closer.

And then they were falling. Or perhaps flying. That desperately-needed horizon was suddenly behind them and all they could feel was indescribable, impossible bliss. Nothing in the world mattered at all for a long minute except for that glorious feeling, a feeling neither wanted to end.

Orihime's outcry of pleasure echoed in Ichigo's ears, encouraging his body to continue slowly moving within hers even as his muscles shuddered with the power of his orgasm. He didn't even hear his own exclamation, didn't even realize he'd called her name, as all he could hear was his own name rolling off her tongue.

Orihime was finally able to re-focus, her breathing still incredibly ragged, as Ichigo slowly stilled within her. Her body ached in the most incredible way, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to wait – exactly as they were – until they had the energy to do it again. Her mind was mush, and all she could see was orange hair and tanned skin as Ichigo managed – somehow – to remain braced above her.

Ichigo knew his arm was about to give out, and that if he fell he would end up crushing her, but he couldn't work up the energy – or the motivation – to move. He never wanted to be _**anywhere**_ else.

He swallowed heavily and shifted his head so that his lips were once again beside her ear, and he murmured, "I may never let you out of this bed again."

Orihime giggled breathlessly against him, one of her hands absently running through his hair, and she said, "I think I could be persuaded to agree to that."

He grinned beside her and tilted his head so that he could press his lips against her throat.

"When do you have to go home?" Orihime asked softly, feeling ridiculously comfortable despite the should-be-awkward position they were still in. She didn't want him to go yet.

"After work tomorrow," Ichigo rumbled, trailing his lips lower on her throat without thought.

Orihime couldn't muster the focus to scrunch her face thoughtfully as his lips teased her skin again. "But…won't you get…in trouble?" It was incredibly hard to speak, she realized, when he was kissing her like that.

"Don't know," Ichigo replied honestly, pausing to slide his tongue over the hollow at the base of her throat. "Don't care, either. I'll just throw my clothes in the wash next time I get up, and leave in time for work." He punctuated his decision by latching his lips onto her pulse-point and sucking.

Orihime gasped, her hands tightening over his skin again. _If he keeps this up…!_ But it was too late, she realized. That coil was already beginning to tighten again inside her stomach.

Ichigo dragged his lips back up to her ear, not at all unaware of her shifting and renewed heavy breathing beneath him, and after trailing his tongue along the shell, he murmured, "I'm not done with you yet, Hime."

"Thank goodness," Orihime breathed. "Because I wasn't going to let you pull away after that."

Ichigo chuckled, the sound deep and sensual and vibrating up from his chest, and shifted so that he could look into her eyes again. With a smirk, he leaned down until they were almost kissing and whispered, "I hope you weren't planning on getting a lot of sleep tonight."

Orihime grinned beneath him and teased, "Nu-uh. In fact, I'm going to see to it that _**you**_ fall asleep first."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to challenge me, Hime?" Ichigo warned, his eyes laughing and swirling with something both tender and hungry.

"You don't scare me, Ichigo Kurosaki," Orihime assured him, leaning up and quickly planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

His eyes darkening in an incredibly sensual way, Ichigo rumbled, "You asked for it," and claimed her lips once more in a powerful kiss.

Sleep was overrated anyway.

_**To Be Concluded…**_

_**A/N:**_ Whew, that ended up being longer than I thought it would! (By a lot! LOL) But I hope you enjoyed it! ^_~ Anyway, yes, sadly, this story's about done. Next up: the epilogue! So, go review this chapter (please!) and then go read the end!


	13. Epilogue: Peace for the Heart

_**A/N:**_ Hello my faithful readers! I'd like to take a quick moment to say that I hope you've enjoyed this story so far, and I hope that this epilogue doesn't disappoint!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. And, if I did, I would have the hardest time deciding which plot bunnies to follow and which to let escape! So, maybe it's a good thing I don't….

**Holding On**

**Epilogue: Peace for the Heart**

** Orihime took** a deep breath as the haze of sleep faded from her mind. Her nostrils were immediately flooded with the unmistakable scent of Ichigo, and she was smiling even before she blinked her eyes open. She was unsurprised to find her line of sight blocked by seemingly endless expanses of tanned, taut skin.

Ichigo's arms were locked around her in a tight, unbreakable, and yet entirely tender embrace. He had one hand curved over her shoulder, his arm undoubtedly lost beneath her hair, and his other hand was shoved between her hip and the bed. Her head was resting on his shoulder and her own arms were wrapped around his abdomen loosely, her fingers not-quite lacing together over his spine.

This was her favorite way to wake up.

Ichigo shifted, slowly waking up, and Orihime realized he had slipped one of his legs between hers even as he began nuzzling the hair on the top of her head. Orihime reciprocated by sighing softly and tightening her hold on him, subsequently pulling herself flush against him.

A soft, vibrating chuckle floated down to her ears, then, followed by a sleepy, "Mm, morning, Hime."

"Good morning, Ichigo," she replied sweetly, her own voice still laced with sleep.

Ichigo had told her, several months after they had begun dating, that he liked when she greeted him in the morning. He'd been talking about how he missed the greeting on the mornings they didn't see each other before class or work, but Orihime had made a mental note to be sure to greet him properly every morning from that day on. She hadn't forgotten yet.

Ichigo's hands shifted, his legs tensed, and Orihime took the silent cue and pulled her arms around so that her palms were splayed over his chest. A beat later he rolled them both over until he was on his back, his head once again on the pillow, and Orihime was on top of him. He was smiling softly at her by the time she had shimmied and crawled up enough to look into his eyes.

"How did you sleep?" he asked gently, his grip loosening so that he could trail his hands over her back.

Orihime's return smile was mixed with teasing laughter as she replied, "I think I got a good couple of hours."

Ichigo laughed and put one hand on the back of her head as he pulled her down for a kiss. Their lips met in a slow, loving caress, and the arm he still had around her waist tightened again. His body already yearned for hers, despite the late night they had shared and the hours it had been since he'd rested even before that. But he was home now; he could afford to take his time.

He knew how much she hated letting him go off to fight without her – it was something he knew _**he**_ would never be able to do. And so he always made a point to thank her thoroughly when he came home. To thank her, and to remind her of just how precious she was to him.

They pulled apart, if only slightly, and Orihime smiled at him warmly. There was still a visible flicker of relief in her gray depths, but it was joined now by contentment, love, and not a little desire. "You're home for a while, right?" she breathed against his lips.

"They're just on clean-up now," Ichigo assured her gently. "Hopefully they can go a few months without pissing someone off again."

Her smile grew, lightened by amusement, and Orihime said, "Good. I want you home for our anniversary tomorrow."

Allowing his lips to curve up in a smirk, Ichigo replied, "Well, that could be a problem, then. I wasn't planning on _**either**_ of us being home tomorrow."

Orihime blinked at him, clearly confused. He had been away in Soul Society for nearly a month, fighting some bitter former Soul Reaper scientist, and they had only barely started talking about their anniversary before he'd had to leave. Surely there was no way he could have arranged something…? Then again, this was Ichigo. He would have made it a point.

"The five-year anniversary is a big deal," Ichigo began, rubbing his thumb along her scalp without disentangling his hand from her hair. "I want us to remember it for a while."

Orihime's smile returned, building slowly.

She absolutely loved when he actually planned a surprise for her. He'd only done it a few times, but each time she had been absolutely giddy with happiness. Of course, her favorite had been her two-year anniversary surprise – which had led to her favorite anniversary of all: the third year.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked softly.

"We're going away for the weekend," he declared. At her (wholly expected) look of curiosity, he added, "The Old Man gave me an advance, 'for all my hard work', and so I had Kisuke make some arrangements for us."

He paused again, and Orihime pouted dramatically, shifting enough to lightly tap one hand against his chest as she said, "Stop stalling! I want to know!"

Ichigo chuckled, pulled her down for another quick kiss, and finally said, "Remember that cabin we rented for our honeymoon?"

Orihime's eyes widened. She had _**loved**_ that cabin (though, admittedly, that could have been because it was their _**honeymoon**_). "We're going there?" she asked, clearly not wanting to jump to conclusions.

Ichigo carefully nodded his head. "We are," he said.

Orihime squealed and planted her lips over his, kissing him deeply as her hands slid up until her fingers were satisfactorily buried in his hair. His arms tightened around her as he returned the kiss, their tongues taking turns exploring the others' mouths.

It was a long minute before Orihime pulled back, breathing deeply, and she smiled down at him again. "I love you," she whispered.

"Love you more, Hime," Ichigo murmured, a content, honest smile on his face.

Orihime gave him a crooked smile, as she always did when he said that, but refrained from her usual argument as she scooted a bit down and let her head rest over his heart. Her hands settled over his shoulders and she softly said, "I can't believe we'll have been married for two years tomorrow."

Ichigo's hands came to a stop, one making itself comfortable over her hip, the other still tangled in her hair, over her shoulder, and he said, "Yeah, I know. Some days I can't even believe you agreed to _**date**_ me."

Giggling, Orihime said, "Silly Ichigo; that was the best decision I ever made."

Arching a brow at her declaration, Ichigo couldn't help but ask, "Really? Better than agreeing to marry me?" Before she could respond, he chuckled teasingly and added, "Or than buying that black lace lingerie?"

Orihime laughed and smacked playfully at his shoulder. "You know, considering that I only got to wear it _**three times**_ before you tore it off, I'm surprised you remember it so well!" She paused, stifled her laughter, and added, "And, yes. Because it was that decision that _**led**_ to all those other incredibly amazing decisions."

Ichigo shifted, leaning down enough to press his lips to her forehead, before he replied, "I suppose I can understand that. As long as you can admit that they _**were**_ amazing decisions."

"You're impossible," Orihime teased, laughing softly.

"Don't pretend you don't love that about me," Ichigo returned easily, deliberately squeezing her hip for emphasis.

Orihime shifted, rolling so that she was flat against him and looking up, into his eyes. As she stretched her arms out, over his shoulders, she smiled a private smile and said, "Oh, don't you worry, Ichigo. I love _**everything**_ about you."

"Orihime Kurosaki," Ichigo began, mock-disbelief coloring his words as his hands settled over her spine, "are you coming on to me?"

Her eyes widening as she played along, she pushed herself up so that she was braced above him, her hair falling around their faces like an auburn curtain, and she exclaimed, "I wouldn't do that! I'm a married woman!"

He grinned and pulled one hand up to trail his fingers along her jaw as he whispered, "Then your husband must be one lucky man."

Leaning down until her lips were barely brushing over his, she softly replied, "As a matter of fact, I intend to spend the morning reminding him of that very thing."

Ichigo grunted, no longer caring about their light banter, and tugged her lips the rest of the way to his.

It was true that they still had to pack for their trip, Orihime had to call the bakery to let them know she wouldn't be in until Tuesday, and then they had to catch their evening flight, but that could all wait another couple of hours. He had been forced to leave his wife alone for a month, unable to so much as check in regularly, and he'd known the whole time that she would have been sick with worry. One night of passion was not enough to make up for that.

So the morning belonged to them – to her – and they would not leave their bed, not for anything, until Orihime was good and ready.

_**The End**_

_**A/N:**_ Aaanndd – it's over! I was hoping for a light, happy, fluffy ending with this little epilogue, but I won't know if I achieved it until you tell me! ^_~ But, overall, I hope you really enjoyed this story! And, if I can, I'd also like to take a minute to thank all of my reviewers, and all of you who silently followed my story as well. So: thank you! Hope it didn't disappoint!


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